The world is writhing within me.
Every pump of my heart begs for
A new beginning.
Every thought scribbled across
Wall after wall. Jotted on scraps
Of paper, only to be tossed into the trash bin.
Regret immediately sets in.
I rip through the contents for a single sentence.
Once thought inadequate,
Now these words become
The dominating factors of my thoughts.
They shock my being like 1,000 watts
Swelling in my head like the venomous stings
From a colony of fire ants.
Yet with every word I mumble and chant
In a singsong way to the walls they're
Already portrayed upon,
There is no relief. Words become more furious;
Rhythm becomes more curious.
My fingers twitch and ache
For the pain of carpal tunnel.
They desire the shape of a funnel
Where only words an escape
Their grasp.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 1:15 PM UTC
The world is writhing within me.
Every pump of my heart begs for
A new beginning.
Every thought scribbled across
Wall after wall. Jotted on scraps
Of paper, only to be tossed into the trash bin.
Regret immediately sets in.
I rip through the contents for a single sentence.
Once thought inadequate,
Now these words become
The dominating factors of my thoughts.
They shock my being like 1,000 watts
Swelling in my head like the venomous stings
From a colony of fire ants.
Yet with every word I mumble and chant
In a singsong way to the walls they're
Already portrayed upon,
There is no relief. Words become more furious;
Rhythm becomes more curious.
My fingers twitch and ache
For the pain of carpal tunnel.
They desire the shape of a funnel
Where only words an escape
Their grasp.
Scripturient: Possessing a violent desire to write.
© July 23rd, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved.
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