Just some morning thoughts of dull regularity, another day as I put on my skin.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
I am sentenced to solitary confinement in my soul. I speak and my words echo unheard and unknown. I have read through the blogs of authors mighty and rich. I see how they write and then write some more. What is this magical place where they live? This charmed land of time free to spin their thoughts and let them live? My country is one where others rule, where duties whip me most cruelly till my words bleed out of me in great gory pools. I stand and look blank and empty as my life lies about me mocking as I try to move.