You write until you wake up on the paper.
Until every breath, a sentence, and every swallow, a piece of you.
Drool wrung tongues painting fluid ounce upon fluid ounce of poetic word.
You don't quit until you've taught all of your selves to do the writing for you.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
You write until you wake up on the paper.
Until every breath, a sentence, and every swallow, a piece of you.
Drool wrung tongues painting fluid ounce upon fluid ounce of poetic word.
You don't quit until you've taught all of your selves to do the writing for you.
