something fit. something aligned under the breastbone
ribs pattered out and gave space for breath
that didn't taste of anything.
something clicked. tortured poet keeping a journal
walks the south route instead
and sees the spiritual spin on life through the stained glass windows
of a shack church in need of extensive renovation.
she is inspired and her need bottoms out for the day--
praise is good.
good.
great.
don't bother me when i'm sharpening my pencils.
i'm preparing for divine intervention
and the clarity i know i'm owed
something hit. my words, hey, i'm black and blue
and they? they're cut through and through
with flecks of tracts lent from life and beyond.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
something fit. something aligned under the breastbone
ribs pattered out and gave space for breath
that didn't taste of anything.
something clicked. tortured poet keeping a journal
walks the south route instead
and sees the spiritual spin on life through the stained glass windows
of a shack church in need of extensive renovation.
she is inspired and her need bottoms out for the day--
praise is good.
good.
great.
don't bother me when i'm sharpening my pencils.
i'm preparing for divine intervention
and the clarity i know i'm owed
something hit. my words, hey, i'm black and blue
and they? they're cut through and through
with flecks of tracts lent from life and beyond.