No shoes for the cobbler’s kids

You know what? I’ve been hella busy. I had an editor basically tell me he would rather not post a story because of the direction it went. As a professional writer you learn to quash the question of why it took 7 months to come to that point , and simply accept the 3 week deadline to turn in something else.

That being said, I do have to keep this blog up.

So, in the greatest tradition of famous and almost famous people, I shall inflict something equally painful upon you, my fans. Poetry:

Untitled #1

Don’t make me

Don’t make me go back…

A long time ago poetry was a refuge of dreams

It was a place where my hopes played out

Drawn against the stars in rainbows and unicorns

Before the clouds of adolescence rolled in

And stormed against the rocky face of my sandstone self

My face faded from the façade

Twisted and deformed by the fists of erosion

Bright eyes becoming dark caves

Leading ever downward into labyrinthine depths

Carved by the tears of the sun

I tell myself the jungle above has made me stronger

Intricate roots boring deep have lent me their strength

An untamed and unknowable abundance of life

But I know that deep inside is the hollow core

That cavern where my soul rests in the cold and damp

Don’t make me go back there

Where insanity and fear grow from the ceiling like long, stone teeth

Where my inadequacies weep from the walls

Where ancient rages pool on the floor

The deepest levels of my mind where the perfect words grow

Don’t make me go back to where the truth lies

That dark, dismal place where my poetry grows

For the truth is powerful but it is not beautiful

It is simply me

A temple to a forgotten god I had hoped never to see again

And it scares me

Don’t make me go back…

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