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Even as a small child, I was obsessed with fiction and storytelling. Before I knew how to read or write, I passed the time by telling scary stories to my sister and cousins, convincing them of the most outrageous things, and often instilling fear, which would keep them awake at night. I often got in trouble for scaring family and friends, and telling tall tales so well, that my listeners believed them to be true. Reading became a hobby in third grade. I started with R.L. Stein, was reading Stephen King novels by fourth grade, and was up to Edgar Allan Poe, William Golding, Anne Rice, and H.G. Wells by 5th grade. My passion for storytelling, coupled with my passion for reading, naturally developed into a writing addiction. I loved playing with words, enjoyed grammar, and liked writing from strange perspectives. I wrote short stories, long stories, and fictionalized diary entries based on my own life.

I tried to keep an accurate diary or journal, but simply writing redundant facts of what I'd done that day seemed so boring. I didn't enjoy writing in my journal, and never bothered going back to read it later. It felt pointless and dull, though I wanted to document the details of my life to refer to later on. One very strange day, I was upset over something that seemed extremely important at the time, though I can't recall what it was now. I had to write it down, but basic descriptive language simply wouldn't do. No traditional account of "this is what happened" and "this is how it made me feel" could every describe what I felt that day... and so I wrote a poem. Perhaps the first poem I'd ever written, at age 14. With poetry, I was able to describe my feelings, my experience, my state of mind in a much more unconventional and accurate way... and I enjoyed writing it! It wasn't just a redundant statement of what had happened, but an experiment with words, twisting and manipulating the English language to suit my current state. It felt also very personal, for I am perhaps the only one who could have truly understood what it all meant. And I enjoyed reading it days later. From that day, I began keeping journals where I would pour my mind into its blank pages each day, in poetic form. I've been a poetry addict ever since, and despite my optimistic and happy-go-lucky personality, my poetry tends to be on the darker side. Perhaps this is how I express the inner darkness that is contained within us all.

::03:03:08::

::: Slumber :::

Let me fall into Slumber
Let my eyes see only black
Let me go lay on my side
Let my world fade from me
Let my unsteady mind rest.
Oh, my sweet Slumber.

I can land, or crash and burn
I will lose me any day
I need to go to a dream
I mustn’t be late again
I have these dreams all waiting.
Dreaming of Slumber.

Slumber! You are my love song!
Slumber is a long lost dream
Slumber is my fantasy
Slumber, my distant mirage
Slumber is a lost cause.
Missing sweet Slumber.

Just let me rest
Heal the pain and take me away
Falling upward
Wish to be drifting to my sleep
Dreams impatient
No longer waiting for Slumber
They’re taking me
Dreaming while waking and waiting for sleeping.
Dreaming of kissing sweet Slumber.

Written by: ~ Sky

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