everything there is … everything

I want
to write
on the walls

spell out
all the
ideas
emotions

color
outside the lines

black pen markings
beginning in one corner

not stopping until I’ve planned out my whole fucking life

filling ten rooms with the words of my mind
the work of my soul

not stopping until it is all out of me
like some monster some wild thing

only then can I lay down to sleep
knowing when I wake it will all
still be there
but exposed out in the open

nothing to hide

(D. James)

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2 responses to “everything there is … everything

  1. As usual an excellent poem…I often feel that if I wrote my poetry that way…I wouldn’t keep finding straps of paper all over the place and I would’t lose them…this one really hits home.

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