Thursday, June 19, 2014

POETRY VIII

Poetry. My words get lost. Because I never developed a healthy way to communicate I know I say things oddly. I'm often greeted with silence. And maybe it's my own awkwardness and unsurity. But it cripples me. My fear. How do I sound to you? Insane? I bet I sound like a big old loser. But I know that's my mind speaking. My fear. But it cripples me. Kills my creativity. Increases my defensiveness. Fuck off you fuckers!!!!!!! And my mind goes on. And on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Here's something negative to dwell on. 

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