Writing in the Dark

I kept writing with the well-rehearsed hand

Knowing how much space to leave.

But when I lifted my hand

To remove strands of hair from my face

I knew not where to put my pen

Like when you join a school

In the middle of the year.

I learnt to use my left hand to fix my hair

And escape the discomfort

Of feeling lost.

Emotions began flowing out,

I began pouring them carelessly.

Not realising that there was a width

That was stagnant

And I had reached the edge.

It took the darkness to open my eyes

To the limits of the page.

And then I wrote and I wrote

In the middle of the pages

Racing with my thoughts.

In the dark.

Comments

Could not be Replaced

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Utopia

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