Sweet Words

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I can write about memory 
An emotional spending spree 

The planets and universe 
Expanding with every verse 

The understanding of manic things
Inside my insanities 

I can write of lives lost
Of a wicked soul’s cost
Of the villain-filled villas
Alive with vile thoughts 

Of a childhood prism
Refracting the wisdom 
From the cells weaved
Through the bloodstreams
Infecting with primal precision 

I can draw pictures of lives 
Made of words plucked from skies 
To tell the stories my pride 
Needs for feeding,
To survive 

I write it and weave it
To make stories 
That are pleasing 
To my ego
I’m the hero

If you even can
Believe it 

But please know 
There’s an end
To where the ink
Meets my pen

And I wonder 
If I’ll ever 
Assemble sweet words 
Again 

©Rachel Nasatka. All rights reserved. You can’t have her she’s mine.