this poem wasn’t planned

i would never
suggest you
trying to be me.

for it is tiring
and sometimes
i cannot wrap
the things that
happen in my

for i always
feel the sense
of loss and
dream of it

i hurt myself
with my own

i hurt myself
with every
moment i
think about
my past.

and when things settle,
there are times that i
don’t know who i am.
and how i got here.

it’s 11:somethingP.M. and i wrote a thing

i have tendencies of
simply disappearing.
if i don’t want to be seen
by you, i will make that happen.

sometimes, i feel like
i’m just a facade.
you see me online…
you read my writing…
but you still don’t get
all of me.

there are pieces of myself
i have yet to discover.
there are pieces of myself
that i will take to my grave.

i find the human mind
very fascinating,
deep like the ocean.
never – ending.

Random Thoughts on a Monday: Writing

Here’s something I wrote a few minutes ago, I thought to share since this blog is about my love for books and my writing…


Safety outlets

Quitting one thing and starting another

Writing writing writing

My hand itches for more writing

To form words.

And these non-existent characters in my mind are driving me crazy.

They’re screaming at me to get them out and write their stories.

I keep saying soon but I don’t know how much longer.

Instead I read and tell my characters “I’ll write you soon when things get better in my life”

They keep screaming though and they don’t care. I think my time is now.

Someone’s gotta do it.

I have the fear that someone will take my characters, my stories, away from me.

But they’re mine. Rationalize, Gretchen.

And this is where my anxiety peaks up and I have to breathe.

And just write…just write…