the heat and i'm
sat out on the front porch.
night's still a few choruses away
and the shade's settling in
cooling things down and
bringing comfort in like it's a cool bed sheet.
my head, a mess lately and i wonder
is this the block i feared, silence internally
my writer's fingers frozen solid and nothing spilling?
it's not though, i know this. those words that breathe
inside
the ones that cover page after page and course like heat.
their there...shifting like clothes inside of a tumbled
dryer
reforming and preparing for a new season.
and i laugh, because what is this, if not the product
of such a block?
the backpedaling that plagues the silenced mind
and i am set to cast suspicion and doubt on an unruly
source.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
the heat and i'm
sat out on the front porch.
night's still a few choruses away
and the shade's settling in
cooling things down and
bringing comfort in like it's a cool bed sheet.
my head, a mess lately and i wonder
is this the block i feared, silence internally
my writer's fingers frozen solid and nothing spilling?
it's not though, i know this. those words that breathe
inside
the ones that cover page after page and course like heat.
their there...shifting like clothes inside of a tumbled
dryer
reforming and preparing for a new season.
and i laugh, because what is this, if not the product
of such a block?
the backpedaling that plagues the silenced mind
and i am set to cast suspicion and doubt on an unruly
source.
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