in my head
a process in restore
A desperate attempt
to create
leaves me famished
wanting more
The ink is dry
my quill is split
parchment left to drivel
Candle light is fading fast
my heart a beating echo
pulsating in my head
The words are like
a clockwork cycle
churning me with
violent empty dread...
My dreams become
a tense of past
teardrops stay in place
yearning to expel this yore
poetic reflections of
my mind are barred
leaving me insane
poetic genius of dark embrace
postpartum mind of matter
wavering on the brink
yet rising in disaster
I tell you this
I tell you now
with charcoal,
pavement,
and chatter...









21 old applause
