I wrote first, with crayon.
Loop the loops and bright zig-zaggedy bolts
that sped across the page, hungry
to find their place.
Broken tips and fat pink eraser marks,
and a left hand smudged silky grey
after hours practicing perfectly polished letters.
Then, pen swept in.
Fanciful blue, serious black, critical red
colored days filled with poetry and places,
staining my skin with its inky rainbow.
Smooth keys transferring ink to page,
click-clack-dinging in response to my
Computer came next.
Blue screen, buttery yellow letters;
blinking, flashing cursor waited patiently
for words to fill the empty space.
But then, journal.
Lined, blank pages waiting to be filled
with scribbled words and captured doodles
in crayon, pencil, pen, and snippets of printed page.