In Your Head.

February 12, 2014 § 11 Comments

andrew-wyeth-a-boy-daydreaming-1344234352_org‘Do you still write about me?’
Do you still read me?
‘No!’
No! I deleted everything.
‘Interesting, I just clicked on your blog
and you have a new story.’
So, you lied?
‘You lied.’
False. I underestimated the power of your imagination.
‘You’re not making sense.  You are insane.’
Writing isn’t sense. It’s creating, learning,
and the ability to understand your own heart.
‘So, you do still write about me.’
No! You wrote this…

‘I don’t understand.’
It’s in your head, it was all, always— in your head.
Don’t you see? None of this is real. It never could be.
‘Then why did you say you loved me?’
You wrote that. No one  spoke words.
No one  said anything.
We each write the stories we choose.
This is the one you chose. And now
you talk to me as if I’m real—
As if I’m more than just the story you created
in your head.
Silly boy,
always in your head—yet unable to write
the stories you wish you could have read.
(Are you still reading this?
When will you learn?)
I am  only  the  pen  in  your  head
you  dream  of  holding  in  your  hand…
I  AM  NOT  REAL  TO  ANYONE—
BUT  YOU.
‘But, I want to make you real…’
Then, write your own lines silly boy.
Write your own story.
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§ 11 Responses to In Your Head.

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