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.