bloggity blog, poetry

see the worlds

Sometimes I can see the words.
I can see the colours before I start painting.
Other times I falter in the darkness
Trip, brush in hand
Or pen
Or fingers.
The silent keys of my instrument of torture terrorize me.
They will not click, will not type without my instruction.
And so, I play.
I paint with words.
The colours eventually show themselves in the darkness.

Line after line.
Blank lines.
I race to fill them up, which
In turn. In time.
Fills me…
I drift from page to page
Lies and fantasy I dream
To what end?
To entertain?
To live? To lie?
But only once I dream the words will I sleep and dream the dreams sleepers do.

Speaking of sleep, I was literally nodding off while writing this. So if it is shit, I apologise… I’m not humaning right this nightness

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37 thoughts on “see the worlds”

  1. I loved this, LemonSugar! Sometimes the best poetry is when we’re not thinking about it, like this one. It’s so beautiful and warm, like coffee. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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