Nov 2017
It has become more of a conversation to a listless void
Written in an almost spoken manner
Words seem to tumble out of my mouth and onto a screen
Venting its esoteric nonsense to a muse that is either deaf or unable to respond
It is no longer an attempt to express love in that rhyme dime fashion or to detox in a Poe'tic fashion
It has become my random thoughts screaming out into the abyss hoping for an echo of something that isn't its own voice.
Written in an almost spoken manner
Words seem to tumble out of my mouth and onto a screen
Venting its esoteric nonsense to a muse that is either deaf or unable to respond
It is no longer an attempt to express love in that rhyme dime fashion or to detox in a Poe'tic fashion
It has become my random thoughts screaming out into the abyss hoping for an echo of something that isn't its own voice.
Poetry is like sending a message in a bottle to some distant place. Like I'm stranded on an island of selfness I get tired of my own mind. I need a Wilson to keep me sane.
