I think
A lot,
I overthink,
A lot.
I cling
To certain thoughts
And Mantras
In my day to day life,
Not by choice
But by an unexplainable
Obsessive need to repeat them.
I enjoy
Stories, and for years
An escape technique
Was to create
Stories in my head.
I remember
Being an imaginative child,
And although it was quite narrow
And immature
It was also quite repetitive.
But this repetition
Allowed for each toy
To take on a life of its own.
I vividly recall
My action men
Had an ongoing storyline
Which I realise now
Was continuous
And must I realise
Have spanned many years.
It wasn’t until recently
I realised
What my play had been,
As a child, I was writing
But I just didn’t know it yet.
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