Monday, March 03, 2014

I am writing again.

I am writing again.
Little bits of nonsense
fragments of a dream
snippets of conversation.
But it is something
and it is mine.
Did it take destruction
and upheaval
to shake these light words
out of me?
Or is it just that my words are mine now?
That after poring over others' words all day
they struggle to come free?

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