I am not a writer

I'm not a writer.
Sometimes I need that outlet
So I give it a stab...

Awkward poetry, stunted phrases
Stories with beginnings that have no middles or ends
Aborted attempts at smart-sounding language, cut short

Now and then I journal,
Finding solace in weaving phrases in and out.
But to call myself a writer? Hah.

Right now, I am a mother
I'm a wife, a provider, a co-worker
All these labels to give me that sense of self.

But I am not a writer, though I once wanted to be.
I'll just live with that--one of my hundreds of shortcomings
And try to cope with it.