Once opened

the gates allow a flood

Words
Somany.

Writing again
Is hard

I was hard
But porn
Lost its thrill.


Self improvement is masterbation
But for who
Certainly not ones self


Never knowing
What's
Actually in my mind

The words
Not their

But hear



Floods of thought
My train
A pontoons wake in an ocean

Another mind
Interesting.

Rare enough
But an interesting

Rare

Lost again in thought
Lost again

But here we go.

Once again

i have neglected
My writing

I have lost
my
rouge muse

A tragedy
Or an epic?

...



The bone cold
Winter nights

A digital fix
Now and again

A creature I miss
A creation I made

Lonesome satire
Banter

And addiction
Calmed by only one thing

I miss warmth
All I get is cold

The winter of
Our discontent

A flick
Barely a bic

Trust?
Bet?


Strange happenings
Replaced by strange creations

Photoshopped life?
Posted to /soc/

Never
Original content

Too much to
Expect?
Want.

Maybe addiction
Maybe luck

 What a waste
My mind that is.