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Click hereThere are days when
The words fall upon me
Like a heavy shroud
At the worst of times.
They accost me
At the point of the keenest
Black blades and force compliance
That I can never deny.
There are days when
There is no seduction,
There is no gentle wooing,
There is only demand.
They accost me as I walk home
In the dark, with weariness leadening my limbs,
And shove me against a rough brick wall,
Untethering my clothes, grabbing me
Where I feel things most keenly
And they enter me, standing up
Roughly, with no mercy at all,
Forcing from me the images
I would hold back
From public view
And draw from my lips
Mewling sounds I would deny.
They stroke me under the sheets
As I sleep all of the paltry hours
Of an extended nap
And make me yield my mind,
Tear from me my dreams
And waken me into
A world not my own,
Alien, yet of my own making,
Familiar, yet out of my control.
They bruise me as I reach
Into the ref to grab food,
Bend me over but good
And penetrate me until
All I can do is surrender
To a greater appetite than
The hunger tearing at my belly.
They grab me by the hair
And slam me into my desk
And force their way
Through my bloodstream
When all I want to do
Is write the news.
Sometimes words
Just won't wait.
Sometimes I don't want them to.
Actually, the writing process can be a bit like S&M, yes. But the poem is about writing. :)