These days, I’ve been thinking of not writing anymore. It’s true, other authors’ activity somewhat depresses me. They manage to write, share, submit, get published, get liked, etc. in such short terms. Success around makes me feel more insignificant than I actually am. From time to time someone would ask me what happened to my book/my poetry writing/my publishing plans and intentions. I mumble in response like an idiot. I don’t even know how I decided to check the prompt sites today.
Carry On Tuesday hit the mark with Midway in Life’s Journey – a topic so sad and bitter, that the following simply poured over the paper. No tears, just words. I have no power for tears anymore.
***
I don’t want to hear a word
of being midway in life’s journey
Trust to my left, rust to my right
Being awake all night
Mull over self-saddening confusions
Close the window to
bleak memories
sweet memories
just memories
warming my heart
warning my mind
worrying my soul.
I can’t really pre-order my days
Nor my nights, for that matter
Purring cat on my left
Dictionary on my right –
I guess, they matter.
© Mariya Koleva, 2012
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