Some People….

… A poem.

Copyright and all that over stuff…

(Leave it, (my lawyer is bigger than your balls), you have no right to it, etc, etc, etc.)

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The Need to…

…when it overwhelms.

I love being a writer,
at heart…
with a writer’s soul
and even paycheque.

The broke,
The hungry,
The need…
…unmet.

Words that form
like fever,
fervor
in my head
desperate
for must have…

Ache to
pen to paper.
A fountain flows,
fills over.

And then,
you can’t…
and the words just
swirl;
mess and fight,
like violence
and sex
begging to be let out,
Voiced.

Screaming
in silence
against silence,
Pressure until
the moment
the muse
is met

…but lost.