Aphantasia

 

Imagine a world not of images but of words,

A world where when asked to picture something

You instead write a mental novel or soliloquy. 

When you close your eyes, do you see the images you place there

Or do you read it into existence within a mental universe

Only for it to die and fade when your eyes open once more. 

 

Such is the life of phantasmal words,

An imagination only capable of writing. 

Ideas and concepts become as sand-castles read about in books

Beautiful words, depicting grand schemes and things to be

Only to be washed away with the incoming tide. 

 

From those words come all of things,

Shoes and ships and ceiling wax and cabbages and kings,

Etched into permanence on the page as was stone,

Unable to be removed except by you and you alone.