So... ... ...
What was last written
Was a confession
of protected reflected cruel.
But... ... ...
The whirlwind of change struck again,
this time, taking my concentration.
On other days it borrowed my time,
tomorrow perhaps my energy.
One more bottle! I walked and I crackled. Consuming this liquid like flu shots on rapid.
I might snap for a sec because my thoughts are a reck and I bet I’ll forget in the morning sunset. Hello regret!
When poetry is poetic it is just is
No it does not come out right it just is what it is
You say that writing is the way to clear and cure the soul
Rebel with a cause
Reactive hugely aggressive
Focused, Driven, ambitious
a cry for help is more of a suggestion
no tear drops
just torn skin
exchange sentences for single words
it’s only a weak beings ego
who underestimated me ,
chose to humiliate
My fate -the prize for the take,
was once best known
for its railroads
and Old Western charm;
the namesake for
an ol’ NBC series
about two brothers
My “it’s 2:13 am and I’m trying to
Google information about my upcoming surgery
but all I can find are old forum posts