the creator

she was not a creator of words

but instead

it was as if a library thrived

within the threshold of her mind

each book; a different memory

helping her form

the most intricate of phrases.

no

she was not a creator of words

she was a creator of a different realm entirely

where words grew like wildflowers

building the most beautiful garden

filled with the beauty of her imagination

trapped within her mind.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

KnightRobot

Beautifully self-centiric. As I always yell, "You don't exist apart from me!" at random passersbys. Jk. It's a lovely garden you literally have in mind.

ashes321

Thank you ^.^ It means a lot to me when I get responses to my poems!!

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