I want to change my blog. Im tired of this one… what the hell were any of these words for anyhow. I say… “burn all!”
I write in vain most days. I approach the feelings inside and tape words to each thought. Most poems make no sense… but yet they are liked. Is it the poems or me that are liked? Would people bother to spare my feelings from criticism? Rejection? So decide Jeanne… are your words worthy?
I say they face the electric chair. Away with them… all these torturous words. Left alive, the poems rise, stalk and become jury and judge. Have me crucified.
Stop. Don’t bother to try and refresh yourself. Im guilty as hell. No one need remind me…
Are my words done? Dissolved in the cursed spit of mouths? Should i start over again?
Why bother? I have never felt so discouraged as tonight. I stare at my fingers as they clearly follow orders… the thoughts rise as smoke signals. I quickly wish to disappear as they solidify my future.
Perhaps this is where i will be happiest. The land of silence.
Be. Gone. From. Here.
I am afraid to leave. Still, i want to run. Escape the hell created. As i quietly shut the lid on this opened box.
For tonight, i am done.