And she felt a deep longing

A need.

To fill a beautiful world that wasn’t hers with beautiful words that were.

And she was filled with a desire

A need.

To breathe life into ink,

To demand meaning from the meaningless,

The swirls and edges which raven waltzed across the invisible music of an alabaster page.

And she succumbed to a lust

A need.

To scratch her soul onto the minute fibers that composed the paper,

To translate every potential life she almost had possessed,

Every emotion that pounded as a wave upon her body,

Every shred of experience that she had chased into her custody,

Into the brief trembling of vocal chords as they assigned melody to the black-on-white shapes.

And as pioneering pen was grasped and virgin page was altered, she marveled at

A need.

To echo the actions of God,

To create.