#16 To Write

To Write
Jonathan Greer

To write.
To write requires the thickest of skins.
You must become the grape that stains the wine and turns the taker’s mouth to ink.
You must become the beast that trudges over thorn and sticker and worries not for its feet.
You must become the hair that hung young Absalom. And the dart that pierced his heart.
You must become the fog that blinds all outside and leads you, like a white hall, into your place of peace.
You must become the forest too murky to allow any outside sound to come and wake you from your rest.
You must sit at your desk and create yourself a callous that covers every inch.
You must stay in this cocoon and create, and let the work create through you, and one day eat yourself out of it and see what you have become.
Are you sure you want to write?