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What a chore.

The familiar urgency,

Pressing against my fingers,

Pressing at my mind.

I must write again

And my thoughts scatter.

What else is left to write?

I’m all dried up.

These month long challenges

Are so difficult to keep up.

But…

Long dormant ideas,

Shoved to the side

In pursuit of  “better things”

Start to stir up.

That story has been waiting.

It’s forming in my subconscious.

I long to sit down and chat

With those characters again.

But one challenge at a time.

I must finish this first.

Even though it’s a pain,

I’m more a writer not poet,

I’m thankful this brought

My passion back to me.

The stories are coming,

Just wait and see!

I just have to make it,

To the end of this writing spree.