draft 0135 – can I say that I write?

Can I say that I write?

Can I know that it will accept me? 

Can I say that it’s true? 

Perhaps. 

Is it safe to assume?

Perhaps.

Oh I wonder. My lover. 

Oh I do. 

If you could let be upon the ink of the canvas.

If I could be the one to shower the canvas with words inspired by passion. 

Nothing would bring me greater joy. 

Serenade me with the permission to call it what I am. 

To have no uncertainty of calling it what I am. 

Let me appease you with what I am to call myself.

 Should I dare to say?

I think I shall.

I am a writer.

I write.

I paint my words on the canvas and I say I am a writer.

I am a writer, oh my lover. 

I have told you my truth.

I bewildered my senses. 

With saying that I write.

That I am able to write.

 That nothing makes me feel more heard.

I think it’s time. 

Can I say I can write?

I think, I can write.

I am a writer. 

So, I’ll be back on Friday evening at 10pm.

See you then, drafters. 

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