Hi there! Check out my latest poem below.
The words on the page mean nothing to me,
dark lines on ascetic sheet, blank,
sterile. These scratches swim,
clawing into vision already jumbled
with letters lost, and scribbles found.
The familiar shapes of words are foreign now,
they stab into my eyes and are lost
in the depths of my irises, sharp reefs
in a hazel sea. I read and I read
these pages over
these pages over again,
but the words themselves
mean nothing to me.
A Teacup Full of Stories 