A little piece of purple
Incased in a sparkly sliver
Beacons of slender light
Within my insides
Within my insides.

And at times
I'll tell myself how not special I am
And truly believe it.

A moment of quiet
Writing with coffee and marijuana
After the intimacy is gone
Is that what it is like
To have a lover leave your bed?
Or you walk the opposite way
In order to regain your own strength.

I need to always be creating
In whatever that medium is
At least once a day.

It reminds me of my bubble gum pink
Or then sky blue
A sea foam green
Room
And I write now like I too am playing music
Making an art.

I would turn the music up so loud
While sitting on the floor
By my black table
And dream up other realities
Drawing with black charcoal.

I discovered entities
Befriended characters
And reimagined my small town existence.

I'm here now.
The almost September sunlight creeping in
I take pause
Between musical interludes
To breathe in
And out.

For someone so caught up
Branded with
The word "now"
I need to be even more present.