Am I creative?
I've yet to deem myself in such a way.
For,
I've yet to truly create anything.
For,
these words exist absent the ability for me to truly create them.
For,
my mind can only seek thought.
Seek truth.
Can only attempt to comprehend everything these humans do.
But,
to create would be new.
New sounds in which the human has no way to announce.
New seeds cultivating a form never seen by human beings.
And,
above all else,
a new,
me.
A me that never mattered,
not till creation took place.
A me that needed not the simplicity of a mom nor dad.
That needed not this paradigm in which we live.
That needed not the simplicity of a name,
or even that in which exist as identity.
A me that only needed me.
Only saw through my eyes.
Eyes so tethered to my existence it knew not how to exist tethered to other lives,
to live absent one's will,
to be absent the ability to thrive.
To open one's eyes and see nothing but "I".
In such a state,
I could create.
Create all.
Create not only the simplicity of my mind,
but,
my sound.
My logic.
My environment.
Mine entirely.
What is one to believe when one write such things?
Is one seeking to see oneself as a god?
Seeking pure creation?
Seeking that in which shall never truly take place?
Or,
is one simply stating one shall never,
create?
©lamarcus12
L