Still trying to re-work the next Postcard Prose post, but here’s a little something I wrote in the creative writing workshop I attended tonight.

The prompt was just writing our thoughts beginning with the phrase “I used to think…”

I used to think that poetry wasn’t for me.

It was for all those people I took writing classes with, who had that special kind of love for coffee and
thinking and style that got to weave words together to make sense of the world through metaphors and imagery, all the while
also being capable of eloquently speaking what was
on their minds and in their hearts.

I used to think that that was impossible for me to do.
To write something so
vulnerable and true,
And have the courage to not just let it
sit between the lines,
Squished between the pages of a journal that I’d find
years later, tucked underneath the rest of my scribbled on books.

To be where I am now took courage; it always takes that.
There are days I struggle to pick up a pen and allow all these words to
pour forth
and stick and fit together.

I sometimes wonder if this poetry is just a phase,
Or something I was forever created for.

So, I hold onto hope,
Praying that God keeps
closing and opening the doors,
And gives me the strength to allow the unfolding of everything to take place.

And overall I pray, that He helps me seek His Face.

💙 Mishy 🦋