i want to keep writing
and writing
until i can sew holes
in my heart
and everything inside
tumbles out
but i want to stop writing
there's too much to do
too much to think, too many
promises i have to keep
and tomorrow's saturday.
i don't want to sleep-
i want to count the strands
in my pillow
think nothing, breathe nothing.
i want to be sad
but somehow i find myself glad-
and awkwardly, that rhymes.
Comments
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great that you wrote this, because i'm feeling the same way too.
i haven't been writing much poetry nowadays and its great to know that you wrote this from the top of your head.
candid, but ingenious



