Released and Reformed

Written upon my return home

My momentum has dissipated

leached from my finger tips 

Soaked into the autumn ground 

Each span of concentration 

interrupted by the swinging slamming door

I write word by word

phrases are pieced together slowly 

Identical observations

resulting in repetition 

Longing for new expressions 

my throat tears with pain 

Incapable and incoherent

I want to be different 

 

But we are encased in our beings 

How can I feel anything but trapped

Reviews

[. serah .]

~ true that... the world is made up of an excessive amount of rhetoric... and to an extent, we are all trapped...