Words softly whispered in the back of my mind.
Quiet and quick, so sneaky and swift,
I can’t catch them.
What torture is this? Leaving me aching,
Like a lover gone too soon.
Leaving me still longing to be held.
What fresh smack of the whip is this?
There they go again!
Circling, taunting, whispering:
There goes my story.
Not blocked, but not written either.
How can I write what I can’t catch?
where words light up the night
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Writings By Krystol
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New short fiction every week
Nice. This was beautiful, and in my mind I could actually picture someone trying to catch whistles of the wind. Awesome!
Thank you! It is good to now that my current frustration was able to paint a picture in your mind!
Are you being sarcastic?
No actually, I’m very thankful for your post! Sorry if it came across otherwise!
It’s okay. I was just… I don’t know.
🙂
;D I completely understand