An untold story

Fleeting dots mark my notebook

So organized in their randomness.

The work of a restless mind

They speckle the untainted whiteness.

Flowing from my pen in a rapid fluid motion

Caressing, nourishing each unborn thought,

“Continue”, they say, excited by the rebellion –

At the end of my sentences …dot dot dot!

These unreasonable reasons, causeless causes

My little army fighting to free my dreams.

They prod and prompt at each of my pauses,

“What’s stopping you? Go on, SCREAM!”

“Go on!” they urge, flaming unknown emotions as

Dancing little dotted flames shoot out like missiles.

“Don’t hold back!” and I lay my heart open till

At last the pen falls, drained of its inky-passion.

As they are forcibly dragged out of my being

I gasp at my own daring, as the words rise and fall.

Could this be me – this wild menagerie of lines and dots?

Is it pleasure I feel at the perversity of it all?

I look aghast at the satanic creations:

Tiny freckles on a beautiful face

Blowing venomous breaths in a seductive fashion

Like little volcanoes just waiting to erupt.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I watch

The moonlight cast shadows on the exhausted sheet.

Burnt out and mutilated by my secretive pain.

And I wish it was just as easy to crumple up my past.

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