Modern sonnet

Love you I did not, nor did I know you;

We danced to songs only I could hear play;

My mind made it all up, yet it was true,

For in my sleepless nights I had no say.

Silly teenage love, but I was twenty;

Borderline curse and borderline illness;

Were it not for all the voices, frankly,

I would have no memory, no witness.

But I am a woman of words and see,

My mind weaves strings, my pens are famished;

You are not real and you don’t know me

Yet I have you written, revised, published.

So, I write of love stories I don’t seek;

For my artistry lays in well-crafted deceit.

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Image source: Pinterest via Eva