Do you ever sit down to write with what you think might be a good idea and a few lines in you step back and say, “ewwww?”

That’s what happened, more or less, to me this morning. I started writing a poem and a few lines in it was like aliens came in and zapped the life out of it. I left it in my drafts, the idea could reignite and it could be something better, eventually. But for now? Nah.

My issue is that I can be a very emotional person. Sometimes I see everything in metaphor and am more likely to see things this way in a high emotional state. I sometimes struggle to find a place to put words like I’m searching for a restroom after flying across the world drinking lemonade the whole way and there’s no bathroom on the plane. Often some part of these words becomes poetry. Poetry I like. Poetry I want to share. Poetry I want you to receive. Sometimes too much. Like these.