Stolen Thoughts

I pick up the pen.
Notes of when I was high
back then and I could
breathe up here.

Erased due to immaturity.
Replaced with promiscuity.

The climax of two,
three campaigns and champagne.
Pages whistle,
fear all but official.

Remarks from yesterday.
Better than now somehow

but erased nevertheless.
I’ll confess I’m at wit’s end
where I told myself it would be okay
but refused to hear.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s