this is my brain
strange place, made to think.
i think it's broken,
perhaps lost in the ocean;
in the stomach of a creature,
a dark bottom-feeder
who lives solely to dawn a headache
upon those as unlucky as i.

it's remnants i dump here,
a landfill of emotion and a wastebasket of fear
that has lived for years in the island of my mind;
cultivated a city miles behind these glassy eyes
abandoned when my brain was flooded by the sea.
but now i see.
blank road signs let me carve a new path away from
lost
and into the
found.

::

there were lots of people on my other books who told me i should write more and that i should try poetry so i gave into the peer pressure and here i am. it's like a journal, now published for anyone to read.