Dreamer of words

Today I am feeling especially poetic, so I am going to put together a little ditty for you. Bear with me. (Or better yet, if you're a poet too - bare with me.) I call this "Dreamer of Words"
My pen hits the page
Ink spills onto white canvas
I move into stealth mode
Etching letters into poetics
Writing fast and furious
My pen can hardly keep pace with my thoughts
The deadbolt of my brain has been cut loose
And with great passion comes great memories
The ebb and flow of heartache and pain
Contrast with the sparkle of magic and elation
My creativity slows
My drive wanes
And I find my subconscious at the edge of a cliff
Teetering on the brink of heightened possibility
I am anchored to this world by only the sour smell of the ink coming from my majestic pen
Can I leap?
Can I take that fateful step into oblivion and see just where I land?
I breathe
Blink twice
And jump.
I swan dive into wanderlust
Head first, I am fully immersed in a pool of sparkling water
No interest in treading
I swim laps
Steady
I surface, the water rippling with silver and blue sparkles
Illuminating rhyme and reason
I dreamily absorb my own dark thoughts and brilliant aspirations
I am not a writer
I am a veteraned dreamer of words, forever crafting syllables into recognition.