This incessant buzzing makes writing poetry nearly impossible.
Every time I exhale my dreams get stuck in my throat.
Writer’s block.

Holed up in my room watching films about Allen Ginsberg,
I howl out curses that make my toes curl.
I think this is where I admit that I am on a downwards spiral...

We have ourselves stuck in a Chinese finger trap.
If I could swallow my pride and just take a step in your direction,
We might be able to free ourselves.

I feel like shouting, singing and whistling just to drown out doubt

Down the rabbit hole
Schizophrenic

Pump my stomach let my words flow freely.
I need a release.
I need a fix.

Hands shut in the pages of novels
Feet stomping on pavement, sending vibrations through my bones.

My fingertips are numb but the words keep coming.
Forgiveness is something I will never master.