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Day 16: On writing and the letter W (Or how to go crazy in your own head)

January 29, 2017


Who What Where Why When

Why I am blessed to walk in worlds where walls and souls are wrought with words 
To work and walk a wandering way so when I close the page they'll stay
The same, await that moment when I wander by that way again
What welcome will they give me? Warm?  I hope, but stay well braced for scorn
As when I'm gone their world stops dead - They wile away the hours in dread
I won't return to work their world, their moon unwaxed, their pages curled
By wonton wild distraction's flight - the things I'd rather do than write
Or worse that my attentions may drift to another world and stay
To will some new and unworn life through conflict, love and hope and strife
And leave them in their world to rot - to be continued - dot dot dot
Their dreams and hopes suspended, still, their foes at large against their will
Ever to question, despair descending, Never to know or to get to their ending.
Perhaps I should not so engage with those I'm trapping on the page
I'll break their world and strip it down, no waste with words, this one can drown
Survivors saved, a life raft's sail - a bit part in another tale
I know that they're not really dead - They grumble on inside my head
And fight and hate and love and die  (unsettling glint in writer's eye)
Until my head is fit to burst - such blessings pure with which I'm cursed  
Fuck who, what, where and why and when. I loose them on the page again
I cannot make their stories end, take aim and kill a life-long friend
I love them, crazy, fast and free. 

They might just be more real than me

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