Believe it or not, some people write from this place:
I am so much better
I’ll show them
They will rue the day
Pride turned sour.
You see, we have to have a certain amount of hubris to sit down
in front of the blank page and believe
in the words and the story we are writing.
Sometimes it even feels like audacity
The nerve of me
It’s hard to sustain.
Nerve.
Hubris.
Pride.
Audacity.
Sometimes those dance partners leave you alone.
And the mean feelings creep in
Let them.
You won’t die.
Let them pass through you
Know the smell of their shoes.
The stain on their shirt
The crease in their jeans
Then tuck them in your toolbox
A character might need those exact clothes