Sometimes I'll lose myself
Writing up stories.
Of females.

Always females.

I can write from a Male perspective,
But I'm not comfortable.
I'm not in my element and
The words don't flow.

These females will have deep
Backgrounds, memories of their relatives.
Sometimes a privileged one
Sometimes one which leads them on their
Own personal journey.

Still they will suffer all the same.
Something is always stolen
It's always concerned with what
Great atrocities
They will suffer
In the great and copious details,
Which I provide.

But they will always
Find a way
They persevere.

Right when they're
Just about on the mend
I stop writing.

I cannot continue
To the point which
My readers panic,
Perhaps I've died?

No.
I have simply ran
Out off a track.

It recently dawned on me
That my characters
Were so real
Felt so genuine
And oh so guttural

Because each character displayed
A small piece of me.

Anger.
Arrogance.
Intelligence.
Love.
Forgiveness.
Naivety.

My heroines always find a
Place they can control
With kind people
And flourish within it.

But most of all,
they never get a happy ending.

Simply because I don't
Understand how to
Write a genuine happily ever after.

I always thought it stupid
Or perhaps idiotic
To write yourself
Into your own story.

Who needs a dozen mini me's?

But look at me go.