Superfluous

Superfluous.
Everything she writes is awkward,
unnecessary.

She thought this is what distinguished her from them all,
and now they chant of falsities in her art.

It hadn’t always been so,
she didn’t always “fluff” her work
and when she did she thought it showed character,
individuality,
style.
But she was wrong…
it shows
lack of professionalism,
a weary writer – masking nothing to say
in a thesaurus.

It is discouraging.
Even if it is for the best.
Like many others striving on nothing
but the belief of talent –
she has found herself at a cross roads.

She has begun to lose the motivation which once
spurred her on.
She has begun to despise writing.
Despise using her thin fingers to type at nothing.

She isn’t religious but for once,
she would hope that He could guide her.
Tell her it’s ok to let this individuality
hide in the folds of her unwritten folded pages.

If he could reassure that soon she will be able to
write – anything and everything –
superfluous in nature,
and not be scolded,
she would blend in with the others…

But He does not reassure.
He does not exist in her heart.
He is a listener to her rants,
that are two desperate and pitiful to open ears.

Thus,
She will try to fulfill Their needs,
Fulfill her grades…
and leave unnecessary… until she meets it again.