Hip Hop Haiku

The beat hits the soul The words take their toll, on me Flush with memories

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forward moving, backwards thinking

Running, With no destination it appears Forward moving Backwards thinking Start to unwind Miss the last spot Though, Focused on the next One foot already in the door Outside, The rest Too scared to go inside But mind's already there Knowing good well Hell, I belong here!

My Dirty Shoelace: My Guest Post For The Bipolar Writer’s Blog

I had the privilege of writing a guest blog post for the Bipolar Writer's Blog, titled My Dirty Shoelace. My poem is centered around anxiety. I can best describe it as: “like a poetric obsessive anxiety filled stream of consciousness over something most people would see as minor. It’s a compilation of several situations I’ve … Continue reading My Dirty Shoelace: My Guest Post For The Bipolar Writer’s Blog