Day 17 – Writer’s block

Could she go some distance
giggle it away like flat soda
drawn and deaf to the symphony.
Pull up, step out, break off
like a candy bar, she’d give you a piece
if only you didn’t take it first.
There’s a thread on the key ring,
don’t sew the locks apart.
Nothing she does is striking.
Nothing she does is fine.

Could she go any time,
with no fire in her eyes,
no bells in her ears.
Tap down, lay out, pick in
like a scab, she’d worry and scrape
if only you didn’t poke it first.
There’s a nail in the floorboard,
don’t step in the roses.
Nothing she does is violent.
Nothing she does is done.


Written in about five minutes out of exasperation and writer’s block. Just trying to write my way out of it here, so forgive the horribleness. Enjoy xD

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