Something to Write

I’ve tried to start this blog 4 times already. So far I’ve written the opening to a letter to James Taylor, a halfhearted exposé about the notes on my phone, a disclosure to everyone on Facebook who now has access to my blog, and a couple sharp sentences that mean nothing. That’s the way it’s been with these posts so far, I guess. Then I start writing as inanimate objects and get far too emotional about it. I hope you know that I am not exaggerating my hatred for that Demon Carpet.

Here’s something I wrote in my journal a long time ago. I think I was having the same problem then.

Tide laps, spits, sizzles
Freezing burn so gentle
Throat and chest
Throat and chest
Chest, throat, up, out, down

Once more

Clothespin lips
Flesh in strain
Muscles speak, muscles ache

Plan a subtext
Lost draft 1
Sensation found

Text can’t do it
Puppet or shadow
One out and inside my skin.

I don’t know what I meant by that. But it’s something.


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