Lately
I've tried
To gain some clarity
In my life
I even stopped writing
But odd strings of sentences
Still haunt me
And sleepless nights
Seem to be filled with
Endless thoughts
Of nonsense
Even dreams are
Jumbled puzzles
Of misdirection
And I just smile madly through it all
I haven't written in awhile. I'm not busy I just thought maybe I'm not good at it or even if I am why does it matter.