woke up

I woke this day with a poem in ear.  I've been sketching it out all day.  There are books all over the bed.  There are dishes in the sink.  The keyboard and pen are devouring me. 

It's an exorcism I can only preform for myself.  There is still pacing to be done.  Even this is a sort of pacing.  Giving a little distance.  I've got my nose to the page, dyed black at the tip by the ink. 

I want to make out with miller about right now.  At this age, mid 20's, no one wants to be just friends.  They all want to at least grab your ass, call you sweetheart, and never call again.  I can't let a post go by without mentioning that sort of shit.  Sick of needing.  Sick of being.  This is being the need for doing I guess…


Filed under literature, Musings, writing

2 responses to “woke up

  1. I love your description of being devoured! That’s such an incredible feeling. I hope you made it out alive… and with a good poem.

  2. Thank you, nova. That comment means a lot to me as I’ve read your blog every day for a while now.

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