Muse

By Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar

I courted her; I wanted her, but she’s so demanding.

For ages, despite my beckoning, my desperation and writer’s block, she eluded me. I begged her to come and inspire.

But now she’s here, and it’s nearly a possession.

She fills me with words I must write, locks me to my laptop. I have laundry to do, papers to grade, bills to pay, a dog to walk, but she doesn’t care.

“Write,” she says. “Create.”

And I do. I’ve been dormant so long, a Mt. St. Helens writer. But now I erupt, spewing words like lava.

Still, I need balance.

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“I write to free the words trapped inside of me, gnawing their way out through my fingertips.” – the writer