My thoughts are jumbled up hairballs
that my mind tries to cough up.
Stray strands of ache threaded,
tumbling bigger.
And with each,
my creativity and peace,
shredded.
YOU ARE READING
Two Cubes
PoetryOne glass. Two cubes. Short fizz, long blues. A collection of wandering, jumbled thoughts with a whimsical ring to it.
❸❹
My thoughts are jumbled up hairballs
that my mind tries to cough up.
Stray strands of ache threaded,
tumbling bigger.
And with each,
my creativity and peace,
shredded.
