blogguilt. I have work to do. Big chunks of work.
Large blank spaces need words. Lots of words. Good words. From me.
Don't go to blogger, I tell myself. You're using up all your words there. Don't use up all the good ones. You can't get them bacck. Oooooo. Leave it until later. Go there later. Now, it's time to work.
Sometimes I have to come here, have to come.
I have to get in to get out.
Uninspired, split, punishing myself. what for? sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will slice my arteries. Bleed. Scrape, tape, drape, shape into something. what. help form me, will you? Give shape to me beyond this. Me the wind with no trees, me a grey backdrop with no sun. what does haze smell like? no fresh droplets, spray; no dry heat, bake.
Take me somewhere, take me there. Take me.
This is the strain of being nowhere.
No wall to push against, no door to hold closed, no one trying to get in, not even me trying to get out.