I'm good with words but I can't organize them.
A million sentences float through my synapses in a stormy sea of thought.
I try to catch them but there's a hole in my net and a leak in my boat.
As if I wrote a million books but they were shredded and now fill my skull.
Fishing out broken sentences.
Sewing together a makeshift rhyme.
Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
I'm good with words but I can't organize them.
A million sentences float through my synapses in a stormy sea of thought.
I try to catch them but there's a hole in my net and a leak in my boat.
As if I wrote a million books but they were shredded and now fill my skull.
Fishing out broken sentences.
Sewing together a makeshift rhyme.
