?

Writing and trying to fill the spaces 

Desolate patches spread across my field of thought

to fill a void, ink a page

I finish and review the paper still

i look to the poem and the poem looks to me 

it offers me only a bucket to sick into 

how much can I plead my only friend

I am desperate to empty my brain into vacant words 

membrane paper thin contains the fragments together

will let none pass to spill onto the desk

Exploding words erupt all over my head

When the words have escaped me and I feel I have a quick fix cure

I am haunted by all that has left 

wracked with guilt, injecting such filth into the outside world

Reviews

[Roger Turgeon]

I always say there is some of me in everything I write. Sometimes I don't see it until I read it later. Not even sure of what I meant in the first place....but it makes me think.

[Frieda P]

Sometimes we need to fill those spaces, and it's not always pretty but we must own them, they are part of who we are fundamentally.

'i look to the poem and the poem looks to me' - feels that way some days....

[jacob erin-cilberto]

verbosely vomiting...

we have all been there....regretting the rants we have written...regretting the poetry we have pushed out of ourselves that has felt like dry heaving...

i like that phrasing "sick into"

clever...

[MomzillaNC]

I like the way the poem visually diminishes as the words carry us through the dichotomy of a writer's need to write and self-doubt over the words writ.

In the sixth line of the first stanza, did you mean "sink into?"

[Wraith.]

Nope I meant sick. Cheers for the review.

[MomzillaNC]

Okay. Well, then, there's something a bit awkward about that line. Maybe "be sick?" Otherwise it's a beautifully composed piece.

[Wraith.]

It's probably to do with where I come from. Seems fitting to write honestly as I would speak.

[MomzillaNC]

Always phrase your prose as seems truest to you…

I'm always open to input, but ultimately, it's my voice and only I can decide what speaks for me.