I am imperfect. A restless spout of tiny words tells me so. I am inconsequential and incapable Of creating That thing that feels so certain in my mind, sometimes. Like how can I get to that place When I don’t know where it is and Will I know if it’s the right place …
Tag: poetry
Black Eyeliner and Short Skirts
An original poem about memory and youth. Fleeting memories dance alongside me As I feel it all rush through me again, that undiluted Excitement, feverishly so, or is it nervousness?, Invading my senses and sense of Awareness in this place. Returning to my old haunts I stop to consider the girl who came before me. …
Word and Whimsy 