I’m curled up in my bed hiding under the blankies with my laptop on my belly… doing a cross between touchtyping and pecking but I don’t care. My hands don’t work the way they used to but at least I’m building something for the first time in a long time, not just scrolling on my phone.
I have an Instagram folder called Poetry where I save poetry or poetry-esque posts that speak to me. Some of them I like publicly before saving them… others I just click save like coward without liking them, afraid that someone I know might notice… although most of the time I don’t think they notice. I feel like if they do notice, they like to pretend they don’t notice and silently move on. In parallel to my own behavior I guess.
Anyways, I’m hoping I finally start writing again instead of just reading and saving other people’s work. I did write a free verse poem about someone else earlier this week or maybe it was last week. Maybe I’ll publish it in another post right now or maybe I’ll just save it as a draft.