I’m the junkie, twitching for his next fix. I’m the drunkard, looking for his next drink. I’m the infant, crying for his mother’s breast.
I’m the lover, yearning for the touch of your skin.
The need in me to spew forth my thoughts is undeniable. My fingers are drawn to the keyboard, searching for that release.
I long to watch the letters flow across the screen as I chase the cursor.
The cursor is mocking me today.
My thoughts will not emerge upon the page.
Today the thirst will remain.
Go ahead, make my day. :) Share, push a button or two!
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
About Penny Wilson Writes
I am a freelance writer that writes in several genres. I've had a successful blog with a growing and loyal following for more than 5 years. I've written articles for Counseling Directory .org, Introvert Dear .com, and WOW Women on Writing. My poetry has been published on Ariel Chart, a monthly online Journal and Spill Words Press. I'm currently working on my first novel. You can find more of my writings on my blog at: https://pennywilsonwrites.com/ and follow me on Twitter @pennywilson123.
