Friday, October 17, 2014

writing about

to say, more & less
inconcisely
without constant censure
to write right about
hungry words
 ( easily distracted)
tired of the deep
where everything is unevenly weighted against
this speech
which Could never be free
costing at least the air that I breath
not to mention the mess inside my head
tying strings around two moons
moving in different orbits
ruining everything together
misspelled, bad magic
dreaming I'm asleep
always deeper
staring stirring me up
mastering my personal misunderstandings with gravity
falling upwards
into endless blinding light.




1 comment:

  1. My made up head on the floor
    waits to be a mind.
    Someone once said
    light waves away between
    into things
    like my made up heart
    reaching out
    now feels the cool shadow

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