shoes that don't fit

It's almost like putting my words on paper gives me an open sanctuary to express myself. I didn't discover an attraction to creative writing until my sophomore year of college. I took a creative writing class and while I didn't enjoy the readings so much, I opened a new side of myself that I had never quite seen. My teacher was brilliant, he marched completely to the beat of his own something; definitely not a drum because that's too mainstream and unoriginal. He inspired me to believe that there are no limitations to writing. Because it's WRITING. Who's to tell you what to write? It's your pen, your paper, and your thoughts to express. It doesn't have to make sense to anyone else. Most of the things we read today are interpreted differently by each person who reads it anyway.

Abe. Abe was my professor's name. What's MLA format and correct spacing? It doesn't matter. He made us carry a journal with us throughout the semester to write in, doodle in, tape things into and all together just pour our ink-filled thoughts into. It worked. I found myself thinking clearer once I was able to put things on paper and I write almost everyday now. Any time of day. I see so much more beauty and understanding in everything around me. All with just scribbles of ink.

The title of this entry came from something I scribbled down one day in class when I should've been paying attention. I was, in that moment, fed up with people settling and droning through their days like they were on autopilot. Listening to blank conversations and dull emotions, I got heated and wrote a poem, if you will, of what inspires me to think different and explore whatever it is that's calling your name.

So here you go, I'll let you provide your own interpretation of what it means to you.

Break the pencil lead with passion
run the ink out of the pen
Imprint the under pages
by God write with your heart
and not your hand

Go outside the walls of your mind
and your home

Put on shoes that don’t fit
and shake hands that don’t grip
walk in doors you’ve never entered
and leave through the back
step off those mazed sidewalks
that someone laid with concrete
and told you to walk on

I leave you with one thing
and take with it what you will
stop sweeping your floors
and dare to dirt your floor
with newfound ground