I am not your mother.
I am not your wife.
I am your writer.
I do not craft a web
of domesticity.
My arms no longer embrace loneliness.
The gentle tap of graphite on paper,
or the tapping of fingers on a keyboard
have replaced all of this.
I was never a mother.
I was only a temporary wife.
I am forever a writer.
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC
I am not your mother.
I am not your wife.
I am your writer.
I do not craft a web
of domesticity.
My arms no longer embrace loneliness.
The gentle tap of graphite on paper,
or the tapping of fingers on a keyboard
have replaced all of this.
I was never a mother.
I was only a temporary wife.
I am forever a writer.