there were spaces to fill, and I filled them, for a time.
with bits of this, and some of that.
the usual things, I suppose.
but the spaces began to grow, as such things often do
and I found that all those things
had suddenly turned to foes.
the subtle war with one’s own self, is a difficult thing.
stitches would cause more wounds,
while the scars became badges.
weaponized clichés waited their turns in the chamber.
drunken meaningless wondrous ***
of the kind the soul ravages.
it becomes easier to ramble, to roundabout the details.
feint and parry at the past,
be metaphorically rich.
and the spaces have filled me up, I think that I will float.
don’t fight, if you can fly
dying in a ditch.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 2:17 AM UTC
there were spaces to fill, and I filled them, for a time.
with bits of this, and some of that.
the usual things, I suppose.
but the spaces began to grow, as such things often do
and I found that all those things
had suddenly turned to foes.
the subtle war with one’s own self, is a difficult thing.
stitches would cause more wounds,
while the scars became badges.
weaponized clichés waited their turns in the chamber.
drunken meaningless wondrous ***
of the kind the soul ravages.
it becomes easier to ramble, to roundabout the details.
feint and parry at the past,
be metaphorically rich.
and the spaces have filled me up, I think that I will float.
don’t fight, if you can fly
dying in a ditch.
