When you force me to write,
Do you believe you’re in the right?
Every second,
Spent,
Wasted,
Annihilanted into crafting a beginning
Comes from a force,
Foul in its nature,
Coarse in its touch,
Vile in its presence.
I bring my own destruction,
And I hopelessly endow my soul.
Force becomes a special type of treasure.
Because I know just what kind of pleasures it breeds, I no longer see the connection between
the pen and my heart.
Rather, I see it suffering from lack of care.
Force of habit.
I deal with it.
My battle is my own.
I create forces.
I am a machine.
The gears grind against one another,
And my blood rumbles with every movement.
We pull only for what drives us: fuel.
We push
only for what must matter.
About the Creator
Mihaela Vasileva
I write based on heart. I love based on thought. I think based on truth.
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