Literature
nuggets
Talent(?)
So there's the abyss, and there is me,
and there's the staring contest.
"Say something", I scowl.
I'm trying my best
to get it to speak, so I can write it down.
I try to tempt it by opening my gown.
Sometimes I give it a rest,
and then it speaks - when I least expect.
Sometimes it seems lost,
or it demands the cost
in health and reputation,
maybe even freedom,
but I dread its absence far more than my own.
This deep well of ideas
is a greater womb than mine:
it may give birth to truth, not just my clone.
"Say something", I scowl -
ever the night owl,
listening inward to hear it breathing.
It made some things hard,
and set me apart,
