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They fall out of me

Quicker than I can write them

Quicker than I can type them

Quicker than the computer can save them

or the page can turn them


I have to stop my mind some nights

from creating art

My thoughts explore

these wondrous places

While I lay in bed awaiting sleep


Magnificent monologues

Powerful poems

Skillful songs

All come to me

in the wee hours


But they come to me

when exhaustion

has already set in.

When I’m already too tired “to art”

and I must stop myself


I tell my creativity to save it,

place a bookmark at that line

So I can come back to it later.

But I never do.


Sleep erases the budding thoughts

and I have to start fresh the next night

only to experience the same absence

of motivation

and the same influx

of my creative spirits

yearning for attention.


About Bev.Does.Life

Theatre Artist and Graduate of the Boston University School of Theatre.

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