Write…just write.

And the words peel away from my fingers, as I sit trying to sift through the nonsense of my mind.

Shadowed figures dance between the two sides of my brain, creating circles of darkened rhymes.

And here I am left amidst my own nuisances and own freewill, to try and grasp at any bit of knowledge being sifted from right to left and back and forth, hoping that it creates something create-ive. I’ve created.

And I’m miles away from the place that I once called home, but not really, for the real home is always within myself – really.

The self, oh! What a funny one.

The self, oh! What a troubled one.

And as I sit between the here and now, and the now keeps passing to there, wow, I sit within my self somehow and dream of something else and bow

down to the roots that I once knew, and I fall into the wave leading up through

my spine that twists and turns all through the night at silly dreamlike foo foo-

And I’m left to my own devices, as I scratch my head and try to make any sense, that can maybe express this inner demon that I work so hard to heal, this inner freedom.

This inner anthem, that tries to burst a song aloud, that yearns to be heard within the bustling crowd, and yet ego-checks itself, ciao!

Goodbye to it’s yearning, solemn brow and hello to these words that have fallen from my lips anyhow.

Right…just right.


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