Ghostwriter

Youth and inexperience,

we clinked our half-empty glasses,

toasting to the end of the world,

but that place we inhabited,

it was so very small back then,

small, until it suddenly unfurled,

And the expanse,

it beckoned out to me,

It calls out to this day,

but the same voice seemed to frighten you,

overwhelm you,

chase you away.

.

You drew up your borders,

white picket fences,

2.5 kids, 3 bedrooms, a dog,

layering chapter after chapter,

with an adept author,

one who could get beyond the prologue.

It's not to say I don't have stories,

or colorful characters,

they just never really progress,

and maybe you're right,

that it's troubling,

that this causes me no distress.