BuzzA Poem by Isick the poet How it feels to have anxiety atleast to me that is.
These flys, all these damn flys. Buzzing around like thoughts. Turning my brain into filth. They creep inside my ears with a reverberating intrusion of practice. I shake them away and watch as the festering annoyances assemble into a mass of undistinguished deliberation.
© 2019 Isick the poet |
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Isick the poetAustin, TXAboutI write to clear my mind from the thoughts inside my head. I write to fuel my soul with the words i want to spread. From thoughts to action and energy transfered. From intellect induced by my own .. more..Writing
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