(no subject)
i can't finish it. i can't force it. am i so incomplete that i can't finish a thought?
the words are in there crawling under my skin. jumbled running so fast through my veins there is no hope of making any sense of them. i'm trying to bleed them out onto paper. every cut is dry. there is no flow. i can't find it. probably because i'm looking for it. that is always the way. you look for love you can't find it. you want to write you can't find a pen. you sit down to write and it sucks. you fall in love you fuck it up. if you are writing about love you've either lost it or are looking for it. either way then you wish you could trade your pen for a little sense and sanity. so it goes. until i go for a walk and find a little piece of me that i've been looking for. yeah or i could just sit on a park bench and watch the leaves leave trees. either way i might find peace. for a night or 3 minutes. get a little closer to finishing it. almost figure out an end. then fall asleep.
the words are in there crawling under my skin. jumbled running so fast through my veins there is no hope of making any sense of them. i'm trying to bleed them out onto paper. every cut is dry. there is no flow. i can't find it. probably because i'm looking for it. that is always the way. you look for love you can't find it. you want to write you can't find a pen. you sit down to write and it sucks. you fall in love you fuck it up. if you are writing about love you've either lost it or are looking for it. either way then you wish you could trade your pen for a little sense and sanity. so it goes. until i go for a walk and find a little piece of me that i've been looking for. yeah or i could just sit on a park bench and watch the leaves leave trees. either way i might find peace. for a night or 3 minutes. get a little closer to finishing it. almost figure out an end. then fall asleep.