I’m a writer

by valentinestavrou

on&off I’m a writer       of the night
I sleep away, I dream of flying      I wake
when I’m dying      I read wars, jobs, cakes, skirts
but not my words          they are kept
for the moments that by way of alcohol
they slip through my mouth
white butterflies against the sky     in the mornings
I forget      I’m a writer
then, stars come out
and my words are choking me