In my head my brain

sometimes i wonder if im doing this to myself subconsciously. in the past weeks ive left more and more pieces half finished. ive left a trail of half born children, still, and holding their breath. its a bit disturbing, and the block is getting to me. but then, today, i wake up fresh and ready. go about my morning routine. piss, eat, tidy up, talk to the roomie, and thats when it comes, but not like i used to know it. its like im forcing myself to think around the block, to not fall into the same pattern and style i had written in before. so i sit down and spit it out. i go start to finish. i dont edit. i dont line break. i flow. till its out. till all the water has been poured out of the bucket. its something i havent done for a long time. i remember during some of my writing/poetry classes using this as warm up. continuous writing, or flow writing. its freeing, and maybe its just what i need. if you know me personally, or have read my works extensively, you know, i have the propensity to over think. im over critical and my brain is feed up with it. its putting my censor on break.

so, i go back. line break, gut some. add little. and its there. the feel is there. i havent added anything that wasnt there already. i havent spent hours fretting over specific words, tailoring the metaphors, clouding the context. its plain, mostly simple and mine. quite a bit like my last piece, with editing. and if this is how its gonna come out, well, i have no choice but to take it. got to ride the wave. got to play the game. enjoy.

Im wasted

and I haven’t had a drink

for days.

My mind has taken

over. It flips and flops,


around like a fish

in a puddle

that has slowly shrunk



I try to

calm myself,

to pull

the reins.


“it’s okay.

It’s all

gonna be



But my weak heart



this restless brain.

And my soul

is on vacation.

My morals, my


my idealism,

my wisdom all

out to lunch.

An indefinite



And the engine


We are all so eager

to run

the race.

Who wins

this time,

in time.

“what’s the


Eager to see,

but none can say.


Another blank shot,

so fire the gun.

“And they’re off.”

Another turn of the crank.


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