I have never had a poem published.

I have never read my poems out loud to an audience bigger than my English class.

I have always wanted to be a writer/poet.

I have never been invited to a speak out.

I have yet to be publicly recognized for my poetry.

My mom told me as a little girl that writers don't make it useless by pure luck. She took me to a bargain bookstore and commanded me to look upon all the books that were selling for $0.99. "Look," she droned, "All these people thought they could make it and now their books are sold at dusty second rate stores. So stop wasting energy on writing, and worry about becoming a doctor with a real future."

And with that the matter was closed...for her.

I have these thoughts that snowball into roaring speeches, and if I didn't turn on the faucet and let it pour out of my skull and into my pen, I think I would literally explode from the build-up. I don't want to pull a Dickinson or Poe and not get recognition till after I am all dust and bones, but as the stars know I am much contented to have my sanity and solitary writings.