Typing...

zoe rose's picture

My fingers are staring at the keyboard.
They are tired.
One dreams of days when I got manicures.
It sighs, remembering those dreamy nights.
One wiggles in anticipation.
It wishes to write.
One sleeps.
It refuses to move, to participate.
A few groan when I order the backspace be used.
Three jump to the task.
They stumble over one another and the others laugh.
Quietly, though, of course.
One aches to be elsewhere.
Two crawl cautiously- eager to be typing.
Thumbs get in a fight over the space bar.
Everyone sighs.
That’s the third time this week, one whispers.
I know.
My fingers are staring at the keyboard.
And I’m aching for a story to tell.

Comments

bibibutterfly's picture

That is really really good.

That is really really good. It seems free and rhyming at the same time, and it is nice. Keep on writing!

the world turns beneath my feet,
and only my breath is still,
in the living night.