Writing on a Napkin in Buffalo Wild Wings

I can't speak very well.

Words get caught and cluttered in the middle of my brain and what comes out

doesn't quite say what I mean.

But damn, when I get a pencil

Shakespeare's got nothing on me.

I'm Picasso with words.

Silverstein leans over my shoulder, nods his head and says,

"Mmhmm, you got it!"

When I was fourteen I said to my mom

"I think I can do this."

She looked unsure, but there were two other kids to take care of and she thought

I would move on and forget.

I didn't forget.

Three years later I said

"I know it's expensive and three states away, but I want to do this."

Momma said

"Ok, lets try."

two years later I said

"Momma, I don't think I can do this."

she looked at me hard and said

"I know you can do this."

"But momma I'm scared."

"That's ok."

It takes nine hourse to drive 

so I can learn how to write 

the stories in my head down on paper for everyone to see

and a line that a friend of mine

wrote down in a poem for class

runs through my mind 

'Poetry will make you shine! Poetry will make you shine! Poetry will make you shine!'

She was a poet.

I am a poet.

I wrote this on a napkin in Buffalo Wild Wings

While my sisters' softball team tried to see who can eat the spiciest wings

and my mom was sitting beside me reading over my shoulder.

I hope I make it.

I hope that when I type my name into google

the word 'Poet' pops up next to it.

Maybe, poetry will make me shine.