Ding ding ding
I wrote this poem last fall:
Constant cogitation, Metamorphic ideation,
The obsessive re-creation
Of the self
Fears of inadequacy
Always injuriously
Feed the fundamentally
Empty internal monologue
Track a, track b,
Both can't crack me,
But make me empty
My thoughts to this page;
Unable to unwind,
Turn it off and get high
Forget and let it all go--
All this I forgo
In favor of words.
Fire finds fire fights
Friendly fire battle
Does it even matter
Am I good enough