The Author of my Emotions
By: Mia Scemla
The author of my emotions.
Each morning putting on his red coat stitched with black lace around its edges thinking to quench his thirst with the ink of his pen.
Sitting down at the desk opening the drawer with the thick black ink.
Whilst burning the innocent wisk soon to be blackened by the core.
The feathered pen awakens by the sudden warmth of his hands.
Hearing the dulcet scratches that create swevens carved into the stars bringing the certainty for tomorrow land.
Etching happiness into my dreams.
He arises destroying all that is good except his feathered pen.
Though cursing the script at hand for the foolish pain of emotions.
Bitterly, tossing the scripture aside.
Ravish’d with the celestial beauty that accompanies suffering realizing.. he begins once more.
The author of my emotions is the creator of my soul.
Whether light escapes or darkness consumes.
My soul is my soul and it bears its truth.
Je suis ce que je suis, et si je suis ce que je suis, qu’est que je suis?