Not many memories that shine
within my orb, and of
those that glimmer, even fewer still,
but that first day, that first startup
of your blue background, white crisp
pixelated letters, and blinking cursor,
that I recall.

Those ginger moments of apprehension,
never thinking
of the shoulds
or coulds
but the what woulds?
How does one
do that which my bestie revealed
and how would I do similar?

A world,
nay,
a plane of existence fully blossoming
in front of my eager fingers, they hover
over chunky plastic keys
urging me to let loose and type
to my heart’s content, but
I falter,
I am nervous,
I am unsure,
for I read greatness but yesterday!

I am here in said situation,
upon a precipice of change
if I strike this first button,
if I preposition this empty page,
then will I set off
a waterfall of words,
cascading and churning,
tumbling to release for as long
as my brain continues to beat to
the paragraph?

I have the mettle and I steel and I press
and like a dragster I am away,
and it is rubbish, where spelling
is a suggestion and punctuation
happens to other stories, but I
glow with wonderment at the discovery
of a me that is right,
that can cope and thrive,
of a me unleashed.