Skip to content

POEM: pain of writing

September 27, 2014

Read this piece for the first time in New York. A Big Apple debut.



marked the skies

with her fingertips,

pinched stars into


spat spirals, split galaxies

from plump lips, loosened

layers of the universe

with her eyelashes

don’t steal my poem 


don’t steal my poem

creativity creates

a curve in her spine

she’s bent over a table

tolling over every word,

it’s a stitch, one of many

in her fabricated fiction

at times the hem seems crooked,

needs repair, plucked pieces

soon sewn again

the hole

where the needle first

pierced cloth

stares round and dark

back at her, no such thing

as fully erased,

every mistake leaves a


this is the pain

of writing.






© Whitney French

No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: