You Cannot Love This Writer

Reads: 135  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
We writers are strange beings, are we not?

Submitted: October 08, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 08, 2014

A A A

A A A


Look, you cannot treat me as a normal human being because by any standard I am not one, never have been, never likely to aspire so high. Often cruel, most times selfish, always charming, I might have been raised by the ocean itself. ‘Hold onto me and I’ll become your enemy; let me go I’ll be your friend.’ The tide speaks it to the shoreline every day. You’d never want to meet me, never have that dance, or feel my warm breath on your face, but know this; in my whole life I’ll never be closer and more loving than I am on the page right now.

If you’re going to love me, begin by loving the world of the writer. There’s no hero here, no knight on horseback, just a man of some beauty; a man who knows how to run away from anyone who dares to love him as much he loves them. He resides in his own windy castle, writing his love to the world because it was always more satisfying than tongues entwined in mouths, bottom lips bitten, and hands holding hip bones.

So leave me on my shore. Let the wind ravage my soul and the waves cover my sins. Let the moon drop toward the night somewhere else. The graveyards are full of people who couldn’t be replaced. I’m a writer. I tell lies. If you must love, then love the creativity, not the creator. This writer is simply the tool; the real ‘artist’ in this equation is the person who appreciates what the writer has created.


© Copyright 2019 VikingMoon. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: