I’m on a cliff, poised
to leap, but long fingers pull at
my sleeves – self hatred
self pity self consciousness.
If I could only ever just –
Spent way too much time on this one. Only to not think of what to write about. So I wrote about not writing. And then spent a lot more time trying to edit it and had about 3-4 false starts. And it’s flawed; there’s one extra syllable. But I can’t spend any more time on it, need to sleep. Couldn’t think of a good title but I suppose [Untitled] is as good as any given the subject matter.