Blog poetry WRITING



It wasn’t at all what I thought, so there was gratitude for holding back, for waiting to hear what they needed to say. It was another offer, one I was too tired to be happy about.

Lack of sleep poisons will and willpower. I had so much to say but not enough strength to take the stage with a speech.

When you’re onstage your vantage point is shit. I’m behind the scenes for a reason, I wanted to say but remained silent, knowing nothing was being held against me.

I smiled to myself before getting off the phone and cried minutes later, feeling unexplainable despair. What now? I thought. Where’s this non moon cycle weepy crap coming from?

I looked around the room and couldn’t remember my name for a minute or why I’d suddenly reached for it and come back with an empty hand.

Chaos takes root in disinterest and peace arrives in the verse of an inarticulate cry. I was both at the same time; a proposition, another someone’s false why.

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