I'm not writing for you,
you reader.
How could I?
I'm not writing to prove
myself. I know already.
I'm only writing.
To tell the pen to
work. To tell the cursor
to never blink a breath.
To tell something I cannot
tell the disappointed clerk,
or disillusioned worker,
or disheartened lover.
To write. To add
permanence to an
otherwise irretrievable
thought that will be lost,
I know it will,
like the passion,
the illusion,
the heart.
Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
I'm not writing for you,
you reader.
How could I?
I'm not writing to prove
myself. I know already.
I'm only writing.
To tell the pen to
work. To tell the cursor
to never blink a breath.
To tell something I cannot
tell the disappointed clerk,
or disillusioned worker,
or disheartened lover.
To write. To add
permanence to an
otherwise irretrievable
thought that will be lost,
I know it will,
like the passion,
the illusion,
the heart.