smoldering

It’s a beautiful day and I’m in a beautiful top

With nothing to write and nowhere to go

Maybe i need a writing prompt, since the motivation to write something is there

They say you have to experience life to write about it

But those who say that probably never had to imagine another place

Another world

Unfortunately the world that I have created has become limited

I thought that being able to put a face to the dream would open it up to my reality

But all it has done was close my dreams off to other faces

The sun could burn my skin and i would say ‘thank you for the warmth’

I could have my heart break and thank God for the song

I itch my hands towards myself when there’s no more candles to blow out

The nails that bring me closer to the Heavens grow white spots,

Like they’re trying to turn opaque

Like the clouds don’t want me to see through them

But I decided that i was the scribe, so I will always find the words when i claw for them

Because if I don’t search for the words, they will pass me by on sheets

And under a sheet, I’ll pass myself by

My mind changes quick enough to want something new

My body a stone, and the moss growing on me looks like abundance

The moon that the ancients turned from, turns into another lost chance for me

The moon i would chase if it could lead me to the dream I’ve locked away

Running in circles

I will write the same song just one more time

But once is never enough

So like the faces of La Lune,

The phases of the moon,

The feeling returns and it wears a smile

More teeth showing than it did the time before

And it’s song taking tips from the sirens

Getting my best work done when I bask in the light of a fire,

Now nothing but embers