Solace

For a long time I searched For the thing that brought me solace. When I was young I loved to read, And my sister wanted to be an author And being the little sister, Naturally I did too. But I was told by other people That wanting to be a writer at eight years old was weird, So that dream died pretty fast. Then I wanted to be a meteorologist And first woman president, But by third grade I learned that running a country was more than living in a fancy house and being famous, And that tornadoes scared me half to death So I started singing. I'd belt it out in my bedroom, And decided that I would be in Annie on Broadway And The Sound of Music And Phantom of the Opera And Rent And Wicked And High School Musical But then I learned in ninth grade That people really don't like to be around The girl who is constantly singing show tunes And that trying to become an actor Essentially means starving to death Unless you're good, But by sophomore year, I was kind of over musicals anyway. And then I tried falling in love, But that just fucked me up, Which I guess was okay in the end, But then I knew that being a big romancer was out of the question too. Then I looked to fashion Which seemed promising But again, I just couldn't find my niche there, So I decided movies were my thing, And they still kind of are, But movies are hard And even though I've never been one Who does something for the money, I knew the movie business was a cutthroat one, And I like to eat generally, So even though I really felt at home at the cinema, I was stuck, And still not completely satisfied. But through all those times when I was unsure about my future career, I'd usually find myself writing something on the side, Just for fun. I can't tell you how many novels I started, Or the unfinished essays I wrote about silly things. And then there was a screenplay, And that stupid blog, And short stories, And hundreds of poems. But I thought writing was hard and frustrating, And I never assumed I was good enough for publication, So I never put much stock into writing. And then one day it hit me like a baseball bat to the jaw That even though meteorologists And politicians and singers and actors and housewives and designers Are all fine and dandy things, I'm not any of those them at heart. I think I've always been a writer, I was just too concerned with what people said To realize that what they thought was weird Was the exact thing I needed. Maybe it is a little weird That I stay up to midnight thirty writing scatterbrained poetry And scenes for slightly jilted movies, But I have yet to star in a show, Go to a football game, Or meet a guy Who brings me as much peace as a good pile of words. It's like the sword in the stone. If you pull too hard, Nothing will happen, But if you're gentle, You become king. I searched for years To find my place But I guess eight year-old me had it right, And maybe I've come full circle. Would you believe That in a plain old notebook and pen, I found the thing on this world That brings me the most Solace?