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He fears clean and open spaces afraid his cluttered mind may seem ugly may seem dark
The naked screen makes his heart beat faster.
Even though his soul might be spilling over with words it seems to miss the page.
Pale Sheets
Has him drifting off to a spacebar where the only drinks they offer are void and blank hole.
Yet he knows somewhere within him there is enough empty to fill space.
And will fill pages and space bars with smooth whisky and rose words.
He knows it just takes time.
YOU ARE READING
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PoesíaA Poem about writing A poem about the beautiful distractions about the dedication and fear about writing and exposing your art
