My Whole Life On Scraps Of Paper

My whole life on scraps of paperMy soul jotted down on the pagePlot lines between scribblesCharacter development as we ageEverything that I am, right herePushing to further keep my mind trainedMy heart’s secret smudgedWithin these lines my identity is contained

Drinking Black Coffee Out Of Delta Cups

Drinking black coffee out of Delta cupsThe cheap seats listening to Empire BurlesqueMixed metaphors crawling in the nightStill pondering why a raven is like a writing desk Dislodged tea parties & cries of NevermoreThe world swiftly swirling all around meReducing myself into my wordsHiding now within punctuation & necessity Unsure of our place in timeTriangulationsContinue reading “Drinking Black Coffee Out Of Delta Cups”