My mind a never ending letter factory as my memory captures photos of the past and instantly associates the thoughts with words as it collects the letters simultaneously to create the words necessary and as quickly as my fingers can type them to write the story a poem is born

Each poem a direct reflection of a reflection of myself like a time machine taking you on a journey opening up a specific memory of my life in 3 dimensions as you get the images along with the emotions from the feelings I felt

So to say I write from personal experience is an understatement because I don’t write at all but rather type the images caught from a past I don’t always remember until a trigger within brings it up

And when that happens I just run with it , I’m just a “Rob”ot for the letter factory up above typing as quickly as I can just trying to keep up

That’s the reality of my poems as most of them require little to no time to create as I’m just the fingers behind the madness of the created words from lost images triggered from an unforgiving and never forgetting mind

BITTER TRUTH  / REALITY

If only I could turn off my mind but unfortunately it’s not a realistic possibility it’s always in overdrive on overtime

Before I would ignore it and be stressed out having a mess for a head with all the confused thoughts from misspelled words as a result of loose letters

It would just bottle up and my emotions would take over and create a ticking time bomb as my mouth would then clock in and the unknown words would spill out hurting others even loved ones

🤯 EXPLODE

So when I say poetry has saved me, I truly mean it as my words on paper sound a lot better than screaming them at others randomly from a factory explosion as a result of missing a healthy outlet : POETRY