I feel the words rushing through my head. Like a river without a destination. I feel the thoughts floating silently. Like an autumn leaf with no ground to fall on. My river needs a destination, and my leaves need a ground. My mind’s world is chaotic, hypnotic, and half-psychotic. Written words are my voice, and I am staying silent. Soon, I shall begin to speak again. When I do, look here for voices.

For those who can’t understand my randomness, this is to say that I will be posting here more often when I find time to get back in touch with my poetry muse.


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