Old Friend

She sits down to write on her laptop. 

 

Her delicate fingers trace over keys as she tries to make

something from the tangled wires in her head. 

 

Her eyes, fixated on the blinking cursor, blur like fog on glass.  The humming music grows to buzzing as it envelops the floor,  crawling up the walls, overpowering her thoughts,  dripping from the ceiling and finally, drowning her in creativity.  Her head falls over the headrest,  as her office chair becomes a throne and her eyes shut  as she welcomes an old friend to the inner workings of her mind.

This poem is about: 
Me

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