Net Curtains and net Cobwebs

Iofur

Around my feet lay crumpled
pieces of cheap paper, little balls
of anguish, frustration!

In my hand I choke the life
out of yet another child, my fingernails
pierce the skin and ink runs down
my hand, fear over what I may have down.
Did I just kill what could have been something
beautiful?

No matter guilt only subsides with
time, does it not? I think it does!

Rifling through grown up books
of beautiful mature imagery,
I weep in despair, why can I not create
something just as beautiful, just as perfect.
I am a jealous bitch, my creations are bastards, born
out of wedlock talent.

Life now squeezed out of yet another failure
I return to the writing desk, my tool in hand,
ready, to caress the soft supple paper.

The room grows old and so do I,
net curtains and net cobwebs now,
line, my home.
My time is up, the pen is dry.

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Thoughts, comments, criticisms, all welcome!

Blush_01

I want to marry your brain.

Iofur

Blush_01 wrote:

I want to marry your brain.

....uh ok...um why? *puzzled look*

Blush_01

I hadn't slept in 21 hours. I'm borderlining that again now! I really like it, take the above comment as a compliment!

Iofur

Blush_01 wrote:

I hadn't slept in 21 hours. I'm borderlining that again now! I really like it, take the above comment as a compliment!

Okey dokey will do...