The Literary Lust

She and Them

You stand at the arm sized window on a summer afternoon
Beating your coffee in a red mug
Thinking the unpleasant heat of your drink
will stir up your feelings and vaporize your words into art

Looking outside the window
At the leaves changed into brown, crunchy things
Ready to depart for their journey to the trash
And you hope those feelings of uselessness will bring out worthy words

You torture yourself to go back in time
Revive the forgotten lover, scratch the cured wounds
Agonize the touch of the bright sun through the window on your skin
And wait for the burns to calm your literary lust

Dryness of your throat, scrunched tongue
And the thirst for composition
On a blazing summer afternoon,
Will force you to focus on your dehydrated rhythm

 

See that’s the thing about being a writer

The desperation of inspiration drags you into bleakness

That’s the thing about being a writer

All of the times, strengths, memories… are only your weakness

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