Why are…why can’t…who can…
…May I restart?
Let me start over.
I…creativity is relatively the activity
In which I express over obscenity
To pity infinity is to have an infinity of pity
And…Expression since a poetry am I
Making so I can find…
If I can’t remember how to express myself,
Then I can’t remember how to express myself
And may I…remember what came next.
Or let me start over.
Yeah, let me start over.
Author notes
It's all bananas, really.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I empathize
I laughed when I read it, but there was this commiserating feeling there, too. I definitely remember the days where nothing seems to make sense, and not just in poetry. Those are the days when you stutter your way through the answers to questions with a great deal of pausing and staring at your hands in between, when you think, "Let me try again, just let me try again, I'm not normally like this..." *claps* Great job of capturing this conundrum.
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Somehow I doubt it's bananas. It's sounds like your thought process when you're writing in the middle of the night, or very early in the morning.
I think you might be on to something. Keep going with it.
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