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Give me the complex character.

Write. No amount of self-inflicted misery, altered states, black pullovers or being publicly obnoxious will ever add up to your being a writer. Writers write. On you go.

I picked up a cotton-bound thesaurus that’d been laying out in the sping’s sun because I wanted another way to say “ Speechless” without having to say another word. You taught me all the ways to trace my outline without appearing to be a crime scene and for that I should thank you, but I’ve always liked words, so instead I’ll write you this poem. There’s a flying bird overhead going east to find gold, and I’m sitting here holding old gold chains and nattering out morse code with my pencil for them to send help, come west, come to me. Maybe I shouldn’t find comfort in the scars people draw on their bodies because I still have insecurities in me that I don’t know how to get rid of, either. These words are self-inflicted and they bleed through my chest when I forget to bandage them closely enough. I close my eyes and my thoughts turn hard like wax. These trees are all wicks and when I put a lighter to their roots all I get is a dose of aromatherapy and another forest fire somewhere inside of me. My dad brought two roses to place on my uncles’s sick bed who told me, “you’re too much of a dreamer, Lucy”. My dad told me that I could never become a truly beautiful with words until I’ve seen more of the world outside of this patch of land and until I’ve collected enough memories beneath my nails to pick out a memoir. And I know, dad. I know. But I’m twenty and trying to create another world for people to escape into that doesn’t belong to us. When I’ve seen enough of the world to write six and a half billion stories in one, I’ll slip myself a dose of morphine and lay the world to rest with me. We don’t deserve this world. We don’t deserve these words. I want you to know that last night was the first night I saw you tear up because of something close to happiness, and I never want to see you cry again. Dad, I hope you’re happy for me. This is my universe that I’m building line by line. You know I always wanted to fall into a place where I could be completely free to be myself.