Fed-Up Writer To A Stubborn Piece of Work

Think and don’t think
My contrary child. 
My shadow, my sun, my rage 
and my thorn in the side. 

What do you want today? 

To feel, and float on feeling, 
Think with the edge of a knife.
To see stories and speak stars
Speak truth and spin attraction.

I see you sitting on the page, 
I see you sitting on my shoulder. 
I see you waiting to be born, 
And I see you slipping away. 

You didn’t like today. Will you like tomorrow?

All I want is for you to want me, 
To crave towards birth like I crave to be done with you. 

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(A dramatic narration to the sound of crumpling paper and flying pencils.)

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