What happens

when you mess up so badly you don’t think you can fix it?

What happens

when someone you love is on the verge of falling from your life?

What happens

when you just want everything back the way it was?

What happens

when you don’t know what to do?

What happens

when you’ve used sorry so many times it’s engraved in you?

What happens

when the one person you would talk to about this is the one person you can’t talk to?

What happens then?

Because I don’t know

what to do.

And maybe,

I don’t do anything.

What

happens

then?

My heart is light

And filled with love

Yet my pen

My pen is heavy

A sword to be drawn

Weilded

Poised to strike

An already broken heart

My mind dances

With words

Swaying and swirling

In time

In rhythym

With the song of love

But the melody

Of this song

Contorts

As it strikes paper

Love notes

Reveal themselves

To be death notes

And I erase

Erase

Erase

(Okay, I backspace, sheesh)

I do not

Want to strike you down

Please

Reclaim your heart

And set me free

I can only mask my writing

For so long

Until I can no longer breathe

I cannot stand

The thought

Of my words

Causing you pain

Feelings of love

Creating blood rain

As my sword

Strikes

Again and again

So, please

Reclaim your heart

And set me free

I click the button

Which reads "write"

But it actually says to me

"Free your heart."

WRITER

Nutrition Facts

Serving Size: 1 Storyteller

Amount Per Serving

% Daily Value*

Tears of Readers 230%

Insanity 120%

Imagination 290%

Ideas 540%

Actually writing 0.01%

Dont worry about my browser history I’m a writer 1000%

Time spent on Baby Name Websites <> 370%

Not Sure If Writer’s Block Or Just Lazy

<> 220%

*Percent Daily Values may vary depending on internet access and amount of sleep.

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/78/53/1b78539265394f2928d37f759d56e877.png

#WRITER

29/07\2020 [Wednesday].

“Come away from that window Dad. It’s dark outside, everyone can see in.”

“Don’t sound like darkness to me.”

“Dad, there’s water on the floor, it’s dangerous. Go the other way or you could slip.”

“Don’t sound like danger to me.”

“I can’t come over tonight, Dad. Angie says I am not spending enough time with her. She’s questioning my committment.”

“Don’t sound like love to me.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do. The doctors are saying you won’t live without this treatment.”

“Don’t sound like life to me.”

“I am begging you, please take the chemotherapy. I don’t want you to die.”

“Don’t sound like death to me.”

How wonderful it is!

The man on the stage

Pulls the heartstrings

Of all the eighty thousand.

His voice spills

Through machines

Into souls..

Yet, his tears

Slip into a smile.

Who heeds his words?

There are a total of eighty thousand and one stories in the air.

(Come on! Omit the one. Who said you heard his smile stained tears?)

Sometimes

It's hard for me

To live in the moment

As it is presented

My mind

Will reach back

And pluck a time

From the past

Make me absorb it

Digest it

Again and again

Until

Somehow

I break free

And move on

Sometimes

My mind

Reaches forward

And paints a future

For me to contemplate

At times horrible

At times resplendent

Sometimes

My mind

Hovers just above

The moment at hand

Rendering me

A spectator

Of the present

And not

A participant

So in these rare moments

When I can immerse myself

In now

Take stock of my reality

And form a smile to my lips

I am extra grateful

Especially since my mind

Has been wandering so much

As of late

Sleep has been elusive

And smiles

Even more so

I see through the pages

And I’ve waited for ages

To feel this vibration

Which sets my heart aflame

The gentleness

In your fingertips

Radiates respect

And deference

To the time long past

In which my story was born

I see through the pages

And I’ve waited for ages

To witness

A soul

Which shines like yours

Through your eyes

I see the warmth

Of the sunrise

And the ephemerality

Of each day

As the sun

Then sets

And you pull me close

In the darkness

And whisper into the night

I see through the pages

And I’ve waited for ages

As the beauty that is my story

Formed on your lips

Destroys me

As I beg you to love me

The way that I love you

If only I could rearrange

These phrases

The only words

I will ever know

How to speak

In such a way

That the idea of me

Could hold the reality of you

In a lover’s embrace

I see through the pages

And I’ve waited for ages

Can you feel

How I desire you?

How I hoard your presence

Because I can’t get enough

And I know

My story is ending

And I fear

You won’t love me

The way that I love you

And you’ll close my book

When it ends

And never

Open it

Again

I see through the pages

And I’ve waited for ages

Only to learn

The bittersweet taste

Of unrequited love

You are reading the last page

Of my story

And tears

Are in your eyes

And for one moment

I can pretend

You feel for me

What I know is real

As you press my book

To your chest

And sigh

Goodbye, my love

Goodbye