Propel

I see it in the distance
hear its whispers, calling out my name
and I sit at the edge, feet dangling freely,
belly gurgling with questions of uncertainty:
should I continue?
is it good enough?
does it matter?
is it worthy?

Then it drifts into sight again
it’s in front of me now
so I pick up my pen once again
and continue–not because the questions have subsided,
but because I have to
I have to
I have to tell my story.

 

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