All of this can never be said
it can never even be shown
yet I attempt to shine light onto my aliveness
onto my survival
each idea is not really an idea at all
it is more like a thing I have survived
I do not write the words
I survive them
live to write another day
sometimes just another line
existence is a gift and a struggle
for the ones like me who over-think
we over-think reality
over-think the dreams
could it have more meaning than this
is there something else left to say to know to live
each word is like a breathe
but I'm not sure I want to breath it
yet I have to
digital words do not stain like ink
poetry written in ink leaves a mark on your hands
these digital words leave only a mark on your soul
an already beat up soul I carry
yet the words flow
like water like an old friend who died long ago
a lonely poet who said it all and got paid
but never really felt set free
maybe no writer is ever really free
we are all slaves to our work
to the words that fill our heads
and wake us at the strangest hour in the the middle of the night
or the day if you are one like me who tends to sleep
in the daylight with the blinds closed
closed to the world but open to the net
attempting digital suicide
or a run to freedom she can never quite see
because her eyes never adjust to any light that is not artificial
This is Josalisa live for Planet RiOt
No comments:
Post a Comment