3/9/2011

ran out of words. Lust for language has left me dry. Used to write like a wizard. Taking words and holding down each line. Wonder when rhyme scheme defined me. When I spoke in verse instead of words. Nothing seems to be complete. Unless the last syllables agree. Poured these words from glasses. Bought drinks when I didn’t want drinks at all. Just needed a reason for being so bitter. Sour drinks on an already embittered tongue. Spitting this vision of a disease ridden world. Blaming my disgust on everyone but myself. Here’s a lesson I was bound to learn in time. Wrote for too long and I used up my mind. Bound to burn out bone dry. Sought a sentence worth the mention. A collection of bombastic letters and lessons. Filling walls with words because paper can only hold so much. Decorate these rooms with misuse. Bad evenings I’m leaving in files and on pages. Who wants to document the good times. Collecting dejection and hating this essence. This soundness of mind that I just can’t define. I can’t find. I can’t seem to see anything. Salt in my mouth because the language dried out. Salt in my mouth because the language dried out. I won’t talk. I won’t ever be heard. No use in discussing the words no one ever learned. No use in sharing this disinterested mind. So ask how I am? I am fine. I am fine I am fine I am fine.