Lean In

Blink, blink, blink.

The cursor flashes at the top left-hand corner of my page.

A fresh document, crisp and clean;

No words, no thoughts,

A beginning.

Blink, blink, blink.

My fingers hover over the keyboard,

twitching,

trying to say something but unsure of their message.

They start and then stop,

reaching to delete those first words.

Blink, blink, blink.

My stomach twitches, anxiety bumps into my rib cage.

Feelings that are trying to say something.

My breath catches, I look up at the ceiling.

Blink, blink, blink.

This is a story that I don't know.

The fear, the anxiety and the discomfort make it an important one.

Pay attention.

Lean In