I want to write like you so bad my heart kind of hurts. I want to move mountains the way you do with your words.
don’t write like me. don’t write like anyone else. write like you.
write like the time you broke your tooth. like riding a bike without handlebars. like when the dog bit you even after you thought it liked you. like who buried the hamster. like having your hair pulled. like having to say sorry. like a mistake you never forgot and like compliments you never got. like your mother’s lipstick and your first car. like what was under the couch. like who lived in the closet.
i write a lot. it’s a lot of practice. i’ve written a lot of things i think are bad and that’s okay. five thousand poems later and some of it is going to be junk. but it’s mine. every word of it came from me trying to find out who i was going to write like. and it turns out the best way to write is to write like my dreams and nightmares and silly heartstrings.
you are already carrying everything you need to move mountains. you’ve got your own words, don’t you?