Little scribbled embolisms
crawling from my skull like pests
Used to be they had direction
Form together written nests
Every other other other
Time I spill them from my head
Wonder why I ever bother
writing what is never read
Filling shoes I used to wear
days or weeks or months ago
Each time my heart I open wide
That ink from pain will always flow
Heartache is a muse so brutal
Forming joy from bitter past
Put the parts together proper
Let the longing stop at last
Little scribbled embolisms
Crawling from my scrambled brain
Let them out on daily basis
Creating almost keeps me sane
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