It always starts out with,
that involuntary twitch,
eyes popping,
nervous rocking,
hard to catch my breath;

This much accursed gift,
heart haywire, mind adrift,
engine sputter,
pulse aflutter,
can’t run away from it;

A sand that’s too fine to sift,
these hands: too broken to lift,
no motivation,
slow salvation,
beyond a dark, longstanding rift;

Steaming piles of shit,
line my pathway to its pit,
a one way road,
on the map I hold,
of a soul that’s counterfeit.

5 thoughts on “Introspectivity.

  1. You have a razor edge wording and some in gracefully stylish lines
    Major grade work

  2. charlypriest says:

    Dark, but lovely written. You´re quite the genius when it gets to what I see in this writing world.