crushed

I stopped spilling ink

looking for rhymes

in creaks

of floorboards

Lost thoughts

and 

convoluted words.

But sometimes 

they’d come

in wisps and whispers in the wind

like ants

creeping through every crack and crevice

I end up crushing.

 

 

 

-sigh- this is tiring. impromptu poem on my way to nowhere. 

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3 thoughts on “crushed

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