Turning the page

You see, I've been stuck on this page for months now

An old story Featuring an old me

I couldn't stop re-reading how the part before began with us and ended with me

Every word I wrote, typed... Deleted a thousand times

Was the same old character, same dialogue

Started to lose sense, always in the past tense

I became the narrator of a story that no one would read

It was time for me to cut out thinking about what the story 'needs'

what does it mean when your illustration is based on a depiction of 

Winning a loser's game with a cheat?

I decided to leave the book alone, to cure my writer's block by saying goodbye 

I held myself through every cry and every try 

I had to understand that the words were all a lie

And in that instance, like the day, turns into night

I knew that a new story can only be written through new eyes

Ideas, words, a new metaphor or rhyme.

I counted down from ten, back too nine-

blinked from closed eyes to a new year and a new guy.

Just like my favorite bike - I was rusty, but I'd been waiting for so long to be taken outside 

He presented me a new one, took the old one apart and promised hand on his heart 'I'll never leave you behind'

Reminded me of the first time I was left to balance on my own, both sides (without stabilizers)

One pedal and I felt like I could fly... I remember my mother telling me 'don't go too fast, give it some time'.

Despite feeling rusty, I brushed myself off, despite the risk of falling again (just too cry), 

I found that the more times I fell down the grass was  always greener on the other side

That holding on too new handles, following a new guide, didn't scare me in my mind

Knowing that either way, I and he can teach ourselves how you're supposed to ride

And realizing sometimes all you need is change

And maybe just to turn the page