i used to write poetry.

[ezlove]

pure uninspired bullshit
or
good ideas worded improperly.
one night i drank a bottle of wine
and read hundreds of things i wrote
and deleted all of them
out of disgust.

i've still got some of them written somewhere.
sitting idle on slowly yellowing bits of paper.
i didn't leave them in california for fear
of someone finding them.
i carried them from apartment to apartment
and i am still in possession of them for the same reason.
i can't seem to take a flame to them.
i have muzzled myself, though.
i told myself to not write premature thoughts.

now i just share these thoughts with others
and they think i'm crazy.
rightfully so.