this shaky pencil scratches and claws at the persuasive paper,
a brittle, broken bird wing lifting and slapping itself against the emptiness,
line after desperately vacant line staring back, mockingly,
and I am stranded,
stuck at the end of the poor man’s queue
this lizard brain is powerless as it goes through the habitual motion of attempting to regurgitate something,
to manufacture anything,
for god’s sake
something like words make it to the page in jagged slices of shale,
crumbling at the weight of every second glance,
until finally peeling back their imposter costumes,
only to reveal soot covered vacant lines
what can I expect when,
instead of lead,
it’s only dust?
-image via Pixabay
Great piece. Love the broken bird wing line !! So visual
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Thank you so much!
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Amazing Angela!
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Thank you, Kat!
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oh goodness. i felt every word!
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I’m sorry. It’s so relatable. I do think it’s all part of the creative process, though, something that intimately makes the process better!
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yes. i believe it is part and parcel of writing. 🙂
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It’s like you have pulled the torment from my mind! So Good, Angela!
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We’ve all been there, I think!! Thank you so much, Susan. 💜
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Beautiful.
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Thank you, Bojana. 💜
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Wow!
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Thank you, dear Rita!!
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My pleasure ❤️
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I get this. Great work, Angela!
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Thank you so much, River!
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You’re welcome.
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