Writing isn’t a choice
It’s a part of you,
Tattooed into the DNA
Printed onto every organ
It’s a passion born to stay.
Writers lead two lives,
One in reality
The other on paper,
You are the lead roles
As well as the editor.
It’s an addiction
A drug you can’t forget
Armed with words,
Fantasies and hope
Embedded into ink,
From every breath
To every sunset.
It’s a beauty yet a curse
From the life you lead
To the life you dream,
The thoughts explode
From every seam.
It’s a parallel world
A portal of art,
Mirrored into your life
Scripted into your heart.
And as the author
You’ll live & experience
Everything twice.
About the Creator
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Test is not accepting comments at the moment
Want to show your support? Send them a one-off tip.