Friday, November 1, 2019

Ramblings of a Writer 1101

My fingers tap nervously on the keys 
Mind rushing like busy bees 
So much to make, there’s hardly any time. 

Small feet trudge on the roof above 
A rat, cat or dog, I can’t tell.
Loud noises from the next room 
Over spilled milk? Or ruined silk?  

I want to write, I want to create 
Something in form, Somewhat with rhythm 
But then my mind goes 
Wandering, jinxing 
The things I have 
The luck that prevails 
The ‘happiness’ that surrounds. 

Mind is wonderful. 
Powerful
Mental. 
I can read yours, 
sometimes better than you 
I want to help you, 
but I don’t know how to. 
Maybe I’m the one who
Needs the push, 
To find myself
To place my feet 
As grounded as I seem, 
Still can’t figure out whether 
Its land or water that I see.

‘You’ are the amalgamation 
Of people I meet 
People I trust 
Who leave. 
‘You’ is everyone
Gracing past my life 
Everyone who makes an impact 
Or I hope would make one. 
‘You’ are this potato mash of a person 
Who reminds me 
Time and again 
That I am enough. 
As are you. 

Billie Eilish on blaring speakers 
Floats down to the windows. 
Stale cuppa tea sits on the table 
Dim light slithers in the screens. 

The wax is dripping off 
The purple glass I gave you. 
No fragrance sadly, 
Just the comfort of the flame. 
Comfort of the warmth 

The fire that will never disappoint.

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