Lost in a blue sea of traditional forms.
I'm drowning in an abundance of books, crannies and nooks. Lost and mourning for my favorite of all reads.
Torn between paper and hardbacks that hooks my inner-interest and helps form the words clumsily on this paper.
But is reborn to me when finally put together. And I shook the choking pages from my neck, crying and mourning of the saddest tales and the blaring horns from the back of me for speaking negatively.
I took the biggest of books in this blue sea which forms a safety net for me from worriness I worn while swimming through an empty mind.
Look! Title waves are washing over me! Mourning yet again of these traditional forms. Torn and reborn but temporarily. Ideas so crooked as the fictional poetry I read which forms the crumpled balls on the floor and leaves me to mourn.
poetry & image by LT
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