Ya know, I read a few blogs here and there and often see the 'I had so much stuff I wanted to talk about but now I can't remember it' post. When I see this, I usually shake my head, questioning the point of even mentioning it. Why not just shuddup until you do have something to say? Well... now I understand. On the bus to work I came up with what I believe was an awesome topic to write about tonight. I do know that it occupied just about the entire hour long ride. What I do not know is what the hell it was... and this absolutely void where even a shred of an idea should be is damn annoying. If I had the slightest idea I could build upon it... but nope. Where the thought was is now empty. In fact, when I do try to think of it, I end up starring at the wall for 5-10 minutes straight. So, it is not empty. It has been replaced by a mental vacuum. Hooray.
Either way, it was good damnit. Really, really good.
Onward with the poemtry. A short one.
Not Quite
It's true...
my past was written
in ashes and scar tissue.
These eyes have seen
many sundry things...
But never before had they seen you
and in that
they were inexperienced
and misfortuned.
my past was written
in ashes and scar tissue.
These eyes have seen
many sundry things...
But never before had they seen you
and in that
they were inexperienced
and misfortuned.
1 comment:
An interesting poem, I really liked it. I saw your link on gaia. I'll try to read the next ones later on. Now I have to get some sleep, way too tired to continue reading. But a few words of advice: keep on writing those beautiful words
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