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madison-cruzPoems
I am but a rose Or a dandelion Or a tree. Or a **** perhaps. Or a brain that thinks. I’m a river or a tree It could be you, it could be me. Don’t think, don’t speak, Just feel, I tell myself. So I’m the wind and some other crazy poetic metaphor or simile. My mind is full of abstract words and tunnels-slash- flowings things that can’t make sense-slash- all the things a mind will spin in a fragile casing-slash- a destruction of words that cannot be prohibited-slash- So I don’t want to think. Yeah, I’ll go with that. But pardon my lack of busta rhymes and feelin’ the rhythm. Apathy is a gravity my mouth has learned to find. A slow crawling, rhythm stalling, asphexiating breath. Thus my words have been forestalled. Goodbye.
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Writers Block
I am but a rose Or a dandelion Or a tree. Or a **** perhaps. Or a brain that thinks. I’m a river or a tree It could be you, it could be me. Don’t think, don’t speak, Just feel, I tell myself. So I’m the wind and some other crazy poetic metaphor or simile. My mind is full of abstract words and tunnels-slash- flowings things that can’t make sense-slash- all the things a mind will spin in a fragile casing-slash- a destruction of words that cannot be prohibited-slash- So I don’t want to think. Yeah, I’ll go with that. But pardon my lack of busta rhymes and feelin’ the rhythm. Apathy is a gravity my mouth has learned to find. A slow crawling, rhythm stalling, asphexiating breath. Thus my words have been forestalled. Goodbye.
Written by
madison-cruz
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
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