Doubt

I'm back. Try as I might to go astray, this blog haunts me. Its callings have been ignored for other fancies. Cooking classes, cleaning closets, walking and wondering. I've been writing in my head all along. But, that doesn't count.

This is my practice place. A venue that just asks me to show up. Polished words and perfect grammar are not required. Blogging holds me accountable to my writing commitments. It's time to chase the shadows looking over the page, trying their best to hold me back.

A Virgin Notebook Full of Promise

By Anita Crean

 

Doubt follows me to the writing table

pulls up the grey upholstered chair.

Doesn't want coffee,

but comments on how the Dark Brazilian roast might have been a better choice.

 

I take out my tools.

My favorite fat pen with the padded grip

that skates across the page.

A virgin notebook full of promise.

Just waiting.

Doubt creeps in:

Put the pen down,

scrub the toilet,

brush the dog,

sweep the porch.

 

I turn on soft instrumental music.

Doubt turns it up and adds lyrics.

I begin.

Words flow

connected by adverbs, adjectives, punctuation

chugging across the page.

I think I can.

The sun rays slant across the paper

encouraging,

illuminating the way.

Then Doubt casts its shadow.

Puts a slash through all my words.

I thought I could.

 

Doubt, you suck.

My ideas hide behind you.

My inspirations are lost in your vastness,

beacons searching through the fog,

that try as I might, I can't reach.

There will be no saving today.

Words strangled by doubt.

 

Promise to self. Show up. Write a few more sentences. I know I can. Unless my words get tangled in turkey and tinsel.  Now....for just a little while.