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i knew me for an artist

by Indigo Tempesta

i knew me for an artist
(ironic how) when
nauseous and heaving
pregnant with sobbing
pounding walls and slamming doors
still i wrote
disgusted and tired
still i wrote
failing to become a writer
still
i wrote
(ironic how
this is love)

12/18/2003

Posted on 12/18/2003
Copyright © 2024 Indigo Tempesta

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Maryellen Lebeda-Parra on 12/20/03 at 04:31 AM

love it!

Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/22/03 at 12:06 AM

I love that 4th line. Whole poem is a vivid testament of the vagaries of being a writer.

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