I can’t seem to write anything today.
I want to write a new verse
but my brain gets in my way.
My hands they want to speak to me.
I want to listen to my friends.
Will hands defeat brain today? We’ll see.
I explode out of the gate, racing at a fevered pace, trying to put distance between my hands and my head. Parts and places and blurry faces all surround and encompass me. I scream at them, trying to distort the images more. I need confusion and pain and exquisite distraction, but all I get today is clarity of thought. It was never this hard when I was loved, so much easier to feel the threads of creativity in my hands and allow the stream of nothingness to take me where it wanted. Today, I am too full. Today I have no guide. Today I am nothing.
Today I cannot reach to touch that fire; my inner madness. Today I am ordinary and apathetic.
Pathetic.
Brain ahead by 2 points, hands call a time out.
Delay of game due to rain…