I’ve not dived very effectually into poetry for many years, most of my work was created during a Creative Writings class, if I’m being brutally honest. However, I do have a genuine interest in pursuing the chaotic creation of purely broken stanzas with little rhythm or reason again. Here’s to that venture!

Breaking Down
There’s the steady thump
my heart still beating
an exhale that pretends to be a sigh
weighted bags for eyes
Monday Blues 
they say
burnt, bruised, in need of a bloody mary
Sun too hot, hence the first
ditzy as all get, the second
Booze to make the night come quicker

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