My Writing Materials

When I write
The materials I use
Are a part of me

My brain acts as paper
Documenting all I have to say
Keeping it safely tucked away
Far from criticism 
Or ridicule
Where I can come back
Revise 
And share.

The pencil I use
Comes from my heart 
Guiding me as I go.
Knowing when to be sentimental
Or when to add humor.
Combining just the right amount
Of light-hearted comments
With intense knock-you-over feelings
To string them togeher.

With a pencil comes the lead.
The lead to my pencil
Is the emotions my heart carries.
Able to change
Thick to thin
Sometimes breaking off
Having a change of heart.

To fix that, all I do
Is use a sharpener.
My inspiration,
Rejuvenating my pencil
Whether I read my favorite book
Look at old photos
Or watch a sappy movie
My sharpener rejuvenates 
My heart

And lastly my eraser
Also known as, my ears.
Words I write pour from my mouth
Which my ears hear
Helping me comprehend
If what I wrote makes sense.
Allowing me to realize my mistakes.
Or think about what I really want others to get out of it
If my ears don’t like what they hear
I know to erase.

I carry my writing materials 
Everywhere I go.
Ready to write
At all times.

 

Whitney

VT

17 years old

More by Whitney

  • Awaiting An Invitation

    Tree limbs dance in
    the breeze of baited breath,
    roots threaten to break ground zero.
    time;
    too much
    too little
    only the trees understand 
    me

    glass stregthens
    mirrors melt
    clouds converge and darkness reigns
  • By Whitney

    Sentenced

    I am guilty

    The bars which restrain me
    are but my own fault

    I am guilty

    The lifeless walls
    frozen, unfeeling
    yield no give as I fight to break free

    My crimes:
    To want,
    the stars 
  • By Whitney

    Only A Memory

    The wind
    brushes my cheek, with a kiss. 
    Neck craned, my eyes
    skim the sky in bliss

    The scene before me,
    a canvas to interpret,
    I stare, deep within the soul of each star
    this game I refuse to forfeit.