she paints
with
poetry
molding
her mind
onto paper
creating
worlds with
words
sculpting
alternative
realities
to
lose and find
herself in...
forced to
break her
Avatar-State
abandoning
her sacred
space
she returns
to
Earth
I wrote this poem as an expression of how lost I sometimes feel as a writer in this world. I am in my element when I am producing work and writing poetry, this is how I escape all the problems I am faced with in reality. It is my save haven and through poetry I am able to discover my true self in the alternative reality She creates for me. This is when I am at my most powerful, when I write I become the ‘Avatar’ version of me, can any of you fellow writers relate?