Sep 19, 2009
by Cindy R. Williams
I think I may be going crazy. I enter into my writing world, then forget to leave. I'm not even sure I want to leave anymore, nor where the door is. Anyone hear of how Edgar Allen Poe used Opium to write? No, I don't use Opium but sometimes I feel that I'm just as loopy or way out there and it is ever so hard to come back to the real world.
I'm not very poetic. In fact, I'm pathetic.
But still I try, so laugh or cry.
It's time for bed before I fall over dead.
My eyes are glazed, and I am amazed
That my fingers can write any more tonight.
I live in my dreams or so it seems.
I see pink roses and ten twizzled toeses.
I'm losing it I fear, but the end is near.
I just keep writing though shadows are biting.
And here I remain no matter how insane.
I have been captured, and my brain has fractured.
I continue to create and think it is great.
I'm a writing slave, but, do I want to be saved?
Am I alone? Anyone else lost in your writing world? Oh, and one last thing, my humble apologies to those of you with the gift of poetry.