Strongest Writer

SHE SAT WITH PEN IN HAND DECIDING WHAT TO WRITE. SHE KNEW, EACH WORD ONCE WRITTEN WOULD FOREVER BE GIVEN AWAY TO THOSE THAT READ HER WORDS. WERE THE WORDS SHE WROTE COMING FROM HER OWN THOUGHTS OR WAS THERE A STRONGER FORCE GUIDING HER TO WRITE WHAT THEY WANTED HER TO WRITE. SHE LOOKED AT THE BLANK PAPER ADMIRING ITS CLEANNESS. YET SHE KNEW ONCE THE PEN HIT THE PAPER THE RUE BEAUTY WOULD SHOW. HER MIND RACED WITH IDEAS. SOMETIMES TO MANY. KNOWING THAT SHE HAD TO STOP THE TURN TABLE IN HER HEAD AND CHOOSE THE BETTER SELECTION. SHE CLOSED HER EYES. STILL YET SHE COULD NOT CHOOSE JUST ONE. SHE THOUGHT MAYBE JUST MAYBE SOME WERE TO BE BROUGHT TOGETHER SOMEHOW. OR COULD IT BE THAT TODAY SHE WAS NOT TO WRITE EVEN WORD. STANDING NOW SHE WALKED AWAY FROM THE EMPTY PAGE NOT LOOKING BACK AT HER FAILURE. SHE WONDERED WHY SHE COULD NOT LET HER THOUGHTS GO ALLOWING THE WORDS TO FLOW AND BLEND TOGETHER TO MAKE CONSIDERABLE MEANING. THE WORDS WERE THERE, SHE KNEW THAT BUT WHY COULDN'T SHE PRODUCE THEM ON PAPER. WAS IT THAT SHE WOULD HAVE TO GO DEEP WITHIN HERSELF, SOMETHING THAT FRIGHTENED HER. YES SHE KNEW THAT WAS IT FOR WITH EVERY WRITTEN WORD SHE GAVE BITS AND PIECES OF HERSELF TO ANYONE. WILLING TO READ. COULD SHE SHARE THE PARTS OF HERSELF THAT SHE HERSELF HAD LOCKED AWAY EVEN TO HER. SHE KNEW THAT IF SHE DID. IT WOULD BE MUCH ADMIRED BY OTHERS. YET THEY WOULD NOT KNOW THE PAIN IT CAUSED HER TO ALLOW THE INK TO FLOW. SHE STOOD WITH HER BACK TO THE WALL AND GLANCED AT THE BRIGHT WHITE PAPER WAITING FOR HER MARK. SHE BROUGHT HER HANDS TO HER FACE AS THE GLISTENING TEAR BEGAN TO FALL FROM HER BRIGHT EYES. NO, SHE SCREAMED. SHE COULD NOT GIVE INTO THE HURT, THE PAIN SHE WAS NOW BEGINNING TO FEEL. SHE WAS LOSING CONTROL OF HERSELF. SHE COULD NO LONGER SUPPORT HERSELF WITH HER NOW BUCKLING LEGS. ALLOWING HERSELF TO FALL TO THE GROUND SHE COULD SEE THE LINES OF THE PAPER WAITING FOR THE WORDS TO FUEL THEM UP. HER BODY WAS NOW JOLTING UNCONTROLLABLY WITH EACH SOBBING BREATH SHE TOOK. SHE HATED HERSELF FOR GIVING ALL SHE HAD, EVERY EMOTION, TO HER WRITING. COULD SHE SOMEHOW FIND THE STRENGTH TO BRING HERSELF CLOSER TO THE PAPER THAT WAITED FOR HER. WITH COMPLETE DETERMINATION SHE ROSE STILL WITH FRESH FALLING TEARS FLOWING FROM HER EYES, SHE FORCED HERSELF TO PICK UP THE WAITING PEN AND BROUGHT IT TO THE LINES OF THE PAPER. SHE WROTE FIERCELY AND AGGRESSIVELY. AND YET THAT PIECE BECAME ONE OF HER BETTER PIECES.