Scratch the pen.
Drop the paper, let it fall to the floor.
Find the words.
Reach further inside yourself than you have before.
Vomit your syllabus.
Place expressions like anchors on your page.
Reveal your passion.
Spark another smoke.
Allow the blue smoke to saturate the air until it stabs the tears in your eyes.
Imagine, pose, pretend.
Suck in the wicked residue until the burn cuffs longer than the pain echoing within.
Smash a fist, claw at your face, CRY.
Cry so hard you hardly recognize the noises leaking from your vise.
Feign a smile.
Stomp your feet, bang your head.
Smash away all your doubt, the bruise will dissipate, it always does.
Write through tear painted paper.
Let it out.
Color your heart into these words, draw your story.
Paint your picture.
Reveal yourself, every scar.
Let them feel your burn.
Pour the whiskey, savor it burning at your throat, swish that wretched impairment.
TASTE IT, girl you better taste it.
That’s pain, and you must own it.
Spit out those vices.
Feel the burn, girl you gotta feel the blistering flame of this torture.
Bleed it out.
Taste that ink.
Girl, you gotta write.