Perfection

Desired. Impossible.

It Always Comes Back

The earliest poem I remember writing was when I was 7 or 8. It was a poem for my Nana who had ovarian cancer. I wrote it to enter a contest at school. I still have the poem some where.

That was the beginning of my writing I guess. I used to write, constantly.

I got to a point where I decided to destroy everything I had ever written. I didn't want reminders of all my past hurts and pain. Like getting rid of it would make it go away? I threw away journals and destroyed a floppy disk that I had copied all of my poetry onto.

Today, I regret that decision.

Oh yeah, that contest? I won first place and went to state with it.