Our Time is Almost Here

"So listen up.
I worked in daylight feeding fashion to housewives.
For just this once, I'll take my chances
On truck stops and state lines."

I want to write. Not just words. I miss the time when it was mindlessly easy to splash my soul on paper. The muses have abandoned me. I no longer feel the spark. Where once there was song, now only white noise remains.

I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I've been reading my own poetry and I miss writing a lot. I wasn't even aware of that fact. That's the only thing that makes me even the least bit happy to have met Ack. We were casually talking about writing and I tol dhim that I wrote poetry. He was really pushy and insistent on reading some.

First of all, I don't really let a lot of people read my writing. Stella and a few select others are the exception. Certain poems, yeah, and of course for Itinerary. But that was mostly anonymous. Mostly. I didn't even know this kid. So I let him read "Dandelion" and "Iris." I wanted to see what his reaction to Iris was.

"Is this about a painting."
"Nope. A grocery store."

Unfortch, my quirkyness may have been endearing to him. Normally that's a good thing, but notsomuch with Ack.

Anyways, while looking through my poems to find one that wasn't too personal, I realized how much of my heart I had poured into these words.

For some reason, the more of myself I divulged on paper, the more alive I felt. It was like a neverending stream of consciousness that would never run dry.

An endless storm of me.

"Our time is almost here,
Our time is almost here,
This isn't like us anyway..."
~The Academy Is...