chaoticallysmallpoetryMar 12, 20201 min readWord vomitThree lines is a 50 pound weight.struggling to get an idea out of my brain,but I'm not able to finish completelybecause the residue lingers in my gums. Poems1 view0 comments
Three lines is a 50 pound weight.struggling to get an idea out of my brain,but I'm not able to finish completelybecause the residue lingers in my gums.
LabyrinthWhen future knocks on my door, it emphasizing the growth I have taken the staircase that never stop going. Forever growing and in either direction.
Beautiful.the clouds moving across the pale blue sky, dripping rain down on my patio. My cats sleeping next to each other, butt to butt, when about two years ago they couldn't stand each other. They breathe in
Cold RushTime to increase down the aisle. Opening up to something else that I can't see, to feel the assault of love slap me in the face.