At War with Words

Do you remember?
Words were the first friend you made
When you were on your own as a child of nine
When reading time at boarding school was once a week in that Hogwarts-like library
Your journey with words has been long and enduring
From being a passive reader of them
To a voracious writer of them

Writing is embedded like a video on a page in your soul
It’s up to you keep that video on autoplay, or mute, or to comment it out
You can’t erase it though, try as you might
It’s your burden to bear and prize to ply

The desire to turn away from the ambiguity of authorship, or to wish for your vocabulary to shrink, these are all very escapist

No one ever warns you or prepares you for the tsunami of words coming at you, coming from you
You think you can be absolved of your art,
But it’s that very art that keeps your head on your shoulders
You know you can’t resist the seduction of it
So go ahead, I’ve just filled up your Faber Castell with the blackest black ink that you love
You have a duty to yourself to fulfill

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