Oh, that I had words like those upon my shelf;
that I could breathe life, Pygmalion-like, into my thoughts; 
that some girl reading in the dead of night might inhale my lines,
might find within them kindling for a fire in her soul.
It seems a kind of magic to me, I who struggle,
I who never see my words take flight. 
Shall I try? Shall I strive, then, sowing seeds of fruitless trees?
Better, still, than throwing down my pen;
better that I throw aside my pride
and once more set out, searching always,
seeking hills to climb, and never rest - 
never say my journey’s done.

1 year ago  #p is for poetry and also pretentious crap #what a good thing tumblr is all about posting things no one cares about! #i need a coffee #spilled ink #i think that's a thing? it's not really clear  2 notes
  1. averydirtymouth said: You’re a talented little thing aren’t you?
  2. shadows-hold-their-breath posted this