Literary Fever Dream

Writing can take over like a fever. It can feel like there is nothing to stop the incessant nagging of lines that want to be written and the only way to stop is to keep going until fingers bleed on the key board.

One of these moments hit me recently. I was sitting in my bed, minding my own business, when the words "ink-filled veins" kept popping into my head. I wrote everything that I was feeling in that moment—looking inward into the manic feelings of my creativity. From those words is what brought this poem to life.

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Literary Fever Dream

A spark turned avalanche, runs over itself

type till time runs dry

till characters break consciousness;

My fingers bleed before the brain caves in

the ink-filled veins flood onto parchment.

The plot won't stop for such injuries.

Sanity of words, brought into existence

by a fever that feeds on

mental instability.