The abandonment of this space does not mean that I have given up writing - for good, or bad. To an extent, I have no need for this "healing". On another hand, I have more than adequate space to write - facebook, a simple notebook. To talk. To myself. To no-one in particular. I only need myself. To talk myself, after all. Perhaps, I just write out of habit, a little out of ambition.
Where is the poem I want to write? I am still searching. Within myself. Outside myself. It does not matter where it comes. I am a whore. A writer is a whore. You will realise, at one point or another. You are pursuing the beauty of words, not of feelings.
---
I come here, to this space, to fill up an emptiness...
Sky
The sky tells me about her emptiness
I can only stare at, wary
of her tears.
The sky tells me about her beautiful dreams
I can only watch, amazed,
beyond my reach.
Sky, what you do not know is your courage.
Cry you may, shine you will
through darkest clouds.
No comments:
Post a Comment