Drunk on Writing

Use your voice.
Stay drunk on writing.

I collected the words
and won't let anyone else
hold the pen.
When the clock strikes
midnight, words will
fall into me and
I will create new beauty.
Life makes little sense,
but moving a pen
is my essential nature.
I have enough trouble
trying not to give up,
but I'm not so blind anymore.
When I look back over the past,
I discovered this was my dream:
creating words, weaving stories.
I just have to remember
that one of these days...
all of this--my words, stories--
are only going to be memories.