Thursday 1 September 2011

Vomit.

I will vomit memories. 
Words.
Things that were said.
Things in my head.
Bad poetry.
Out on paper.

I will purge.

Visions.
Moments.
Sounds.
Feelings.

Blacken, blanken.
Clean out.
Walk away, start over.
(And the paper holds it all, leather-bound.)


7 comments:

Koo said...

Love this. This is how it ends and begins.

Anonymous said...

Avec mes souvenirs
J'ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux !

Balayées les amours
Et tous leurs trémolos
Balayés pour toujours
Je repars à zéro

Anonymous said...

translation:

With my memories
I lit up the fire
My troubles, my pleasures
I don't need them anymore

Broomed away my love stories
And all their tremble
Broomed away for always
I start again from zero.

nicrap said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
♪♪Happy Go Lucky♪♪ said...

I loved the way you put it!

thegirlwithoneheart said...

WOW.

Anurag Rana said...

This is atrocious. You should watch this movie called 'Happiness' and relate with the the lady who plays the poet.