I think I write too much, But it’s my savior; my lifeline. Without it, my heartbeat Would most certainly flatline.
It is everyday, That I, Ever so longingly Look at my Ever so shimmering Blade of peace. Without it’s edge, I would go Far off the beach Ripped by the Riptide of insanity.
But I keep writing, As to keep my bloodlust In check, and to not face The ———————f l a t l i n e ———————
The title has little to do. And sorry for the train wreck of a poem... there was a trash train, a logging train, and a truck full of firecrackers, and they all collided at the same time... that’s my excuse.