All my journals disintegrate to poetry
I begin a rant,
One point, two points,
Three in my head
Happy, angry, silly or sad
Rhetoric fully planned,
This happened, then that,
But soon, I begin uniting the words,
Sentences connected in meter and time
I'm lost in rhyme, pentameter, prose
Sublime
Lines flowing,
My mind rolling,
Memory erasing
Lost in something,
Distracted by creativity,
Fulfilled by a need that's in me,
Drained of the pent-up energy
Satisfied, sated and understood by the page.

I have it in spades
But it comes in waves,
In the climb, I know I'm worth it,
On the precipice, it feels so clear,
In the curl, I'm tested,
It's in the break that I get lost,
And just as it pulls me in,
I ride upon the backs of the strong women who surround me,
Holding me accountable,
Exposing the humanity that grounds me,
Resolve is a funny thing,
I have it in spades,
But it comes in waves.