I write my feelings
refusing to read my own words
transported from brain to paper
through the ink that flows in me
my fingertip a pen
constantly moving across
blank sheets of skin
enormous rushes of energy
pulsating brain waves
devouring all I come in contact with
digested in the acid of my entrails
and spat out word after word
unfolding like the leaves
I eat for breakfast...
one day to awaken
and find myself a tree
thin, they shall make paper
out of me...
03301977
No comments:
Post a Comment