Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Too Much To Ask

Is it too much to ask?
My pen feels heavier with each hopeful word,
desire dirtying the clean, crisp paper.
Gut wrenching guilt,
I am down on my knees,
the river Thames has found a new home,
past the bursting bank of my lashes,
down my cheeks,
onto my bed sheets.
I chant,
calling out,
reciting the things my aching fingertips reach for in my sleep,
as if I can call them into the world as I awake.

I close my eyes,
but the flood doesn’t falter.
I daydream about last summer.
Red pylons in the distance,
the ones that made me nostalgic for the Blackpool Tower,
as I chain smoked in solitude,
writing love songs to nobody in particular in the park.

Is it too much to ask,
for the peace that I plead for,
prayed into the air and pledged into paper?

Will it ever come?
Will I know what to do with it when it does?

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