Untitled 1 (The Typewriter)

Free style

I am made of letters,

of the small rubber end of

the adjoining metal key.  I am 

comprised of light ink,

jet black, running

dry against the complex and

woven particles of paper.

I am

nothing but pieces,

not the whole.

So unload yourself,

I will survive the tick tack

click clack

of the typwriter.

I am designed to soak

your sins,

your secrets,

your love, and

I am here to take

the blame

when it all comes back to you.

So unload yourself on me.

Undress yourself,

ink yourself,

and disperse the terrible burden

of memory on me.

For your pieces keep me

glued.  My pieces keep you sane.

There are errors to be made

and stains to accept

but you,

my love,

you bear your weight on me.

Unload your soul and

take a seat.

Reviews

[Christopher_Myles]

I am designed to soak

your sins,

your secrets,

your love, and

I am here to take

the blame

when it all comes back to you.

So unload yourself on me.

I love this part. Its the all encompassing reason to write. You write when you sin, when you love, and when you have a secret, and then when the act of writing gets you in trouble for writing out your vices and emotions, you go back to write about it. I get the feeling that writing is a big pillow, that conforms to your whole body when I read this. I'm not going to lie, its a tad phallic, especially the inky parts. But, it accurately describes the release that goes on in any act of creative release.

[Kaitlynn Kelly]

Thank you so much! Interesting - I never intended the phallic parts, I'll take a look into that!

[Jem Sagcal]

This was absolutely beautiful. Wonderfully written and it's direction was flawless.

[Kaitlynn Kelly]

Thank you!!