crab siege
bottled up my mind -
‘gone fishing’ with hindsight.
in the sea of memories and failures -
found what floated with a note crammed in it.
it read:
“thoughts like anchors dropped heading to the muddy banks
to get a grip on chaos as laid out with my own hands”.
self-consciousness a lethal trap -
self-confidence a lethal weapon.
pathetic? worn-out? lost?
naw, just too strained of a self.
a self. not the self.
June 22nd, 2009 at 13:22
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