a feverish pace

a desire to create/




and begin anew.

nine to five boredom

grows into something more

and I seed & sow

what could of been.

There will be a Harvest time

when I will eat of this fruit of mine

& then I will understand

(the knowledge imparted in the first bite)

What I Am

whether I have withered inside

&grown bitter in this unyielding winter

or whether I am all that I have hoped to be.


there is some speed in it

some desire to write all that I can

whether it is to make up for lost time (&all we left unsaid)

or under the assertion that Yes, I am living on borrowed time

I wish to fill this silence, this numbness of my day to day living

with something more – a substantial truth

to know what I am

Whats Inside

behind who I must be for others

I must escape this constant forgetting

And remember Myself.