i want to write the way i think. i want to write the way i think when it’s past midnight and zeus rages. thunder wraps me up and hits against my lightning-warmed bones; lightning that flashes across my face so that my expression is exposed to the darkness. fear. frustration. i want to write the way i think when i need to fall asleep but i can’t. incessantly. ignorantly. sheets would spew out from an exasperated quill and lay all over the room till it comes back and grips my throat. I want to write the way i think as the roads tremble from the roaring violence of rain. streetlights, like freckles or sugar grains scattered across the skyline like on a pure wide grin, buzz in the background with lacklustre energy. i want to write the way i think when it stops. when there is no sound. but it is loud. it retreats and attacks like waves on the shore. slowly, cautiously...a car drives by. footsteps, laughter. then again, Silence. silence silence silence silence. only the sound of a clock ticking, a metronome to words that will never be in flesh, crumbling into the sand of an hourglass like a cicada shell crunched to the ground. the wish to be a writer with a flaming heart of unrequited love given on a silver platter to a page to prove your worth. you ask to burn alive with it like the unsuspecting flies fried in lamps.

it is simple,
just Write.

© lilac_of_hope