loud ink
on limited space
liminal lines
and the in-betweens
how can deoxyribonucleic
miracles be written down
somehow, Macguffins
live with it
i'm short on ink and breath
and patience. the mere thought you might be free from my curse,
Erikson's identity titanic and the way
your life manifests the ol' favourite Chaap Tilak. google it. what's google? google it. find an amnesiacs anonymous.
but who were you?
you were fire incarnate
hungry for the deepest well
of mysteries and the big How
you were the cranium of a bull
unflinching and sturdy
you were the softness of the dandelion's touch
dismantle at provocation
but
burn this
like the fire inside you
let it pry its way out
onto this scribble
this loud ink, this schizophrenic paper
make yourself anew
you have the potential to be anything
like silent blank paper without all the loudness of ink
YOU ARE READING
Revèuse
Poetry"Everyday we prepare a face, to face the faces we must face." TS Eliot this book will never end, it's a way for me to keep pieces of me safe.
