Damn Writing

 

Words bounce in my head
they are filling my dread,
but no answers
come clearly alone.
Still clarity's
gone
I walk with no song
and I'm screaming
for it to give meaning.
I fight broken words
to make sense of their noise
too bring them in arm's reach
of joy.
But I feel that I'm missing
great poems as they wander
from home in my head
where lies tears.
Rhythms in my head
want to be read
by my eyes don't look outward
and see.
I'm incapable
of scrabble,
incapable of thought
incapable of ABC babble.
This damn writing
is hot but it makes me feel cold
makes me cower
Then makes me feel bold.
This damn writing's
no blessing it feels like a curse
when it comes to me
in some fancy dressing.
I stay up late at night,
my dreams
lose the fight, I stay hungry
and tired and soiled.
I'm coming apart at the seams
as I beg recognition
keep fearing rejection
while I'm bleeding all over the page.
I stay sane,
on the outside.
This damn writing's to blame,
for bringing me home like in flames.
Then it takes me away again.
and it's making me pray again
as I'm starting another day
again.