H-e-l-l-o, Inspiration! Where are You?

Over the last two weeks, I have been at a loss for what to write about. Literally blank. Yesterday I was on my way out to the grocery store, and I realized I am lacking some serious inspiration. I have been so overwhelmed and preoccupied by my future plans, that I haven't taken the time to look around and find inspiration in the now. Now it is to the point where I don't where to look. I am frantic and frazzled. I also realized I have been cooped up. The winter months are beginning to get to me. Every time I look out my living room window, I see the white blanket of snow and the gray building across the yard. It is beginning to make me stir crazy. :)

All the blah-ness led me to ask myself, at what point in my life did I feel the most inspired to write? Where was I? Who was I surrounding myself with? The answer was really simple-when I was in high school. Recently, I found an old journal of poetry I had written and began to tear up. The journal itself was actually a gift from a good friend who believed in my writing abilities and wanted me to have all of my poems in one spot. After reminiscing about my old friend, I began to read. I was amazed. The words were from a teenager struggling to figure out where she belonged-her heart was bleeding onto the page. This girl was raw and emotionally flawed, but there was an odd confidence about the way she wrote. I still can't believe the girl who wrote this book of poems was me. Some of the poems were lovely, and yes some were very cheesy (I was listening to a lot of Jewel), but I truly had fueled my emotional energy onto the page to sift through my feelings. So, how do I get back there? Not that I want to be a teenager stricken angst and a broken heart again, oh how grateful I am that part of my life is over! But I want that freshness I had as a writer then-I knew where to look for inspiration. I need to find that part of myself. So in honor of that girl who wrote so freely, I will share one of her poems with you now:

Too Close

Don't come too close,

You might see right through me.

You might see the dark circles that paint themselves under my eyes,

As a result of the sleepless nights dreaming of you.

You might see my thin skin,

And tear a hole to make me cry.

You might see my divided heart,

It's part for you, it's part for emptiness.

You might see my scars,

The one of my knee from falling on the sidewalk, the one of my lip from where the dog bit me,

Or the one on my heart from where you left me broken.

Don't come too close,

You might see right through me.

Oh how I was so lovelorn! Hopefully my future writings won't be as broken hearted as this poem, but I do hope they have the same freshness and ease. I hope they are inspired, as this poem obviously was!