Day 12

Often I do not feel much like writing

my mind is cluttered with teenage angst

and childish disagreements and the

phrase ‘smells like teen spirit’ springs

to mind when I’ve worn the same pyjama

shirt for three days straight because 

I’ve been spending all my time anywhere

but this world in front of me.


So I write about not writing in a

paradoxical trance and I breathe

without inhaling, contemplate

without thinking whilst the cosmos 

in my mind swirls in graceful 

pirouettes but I am still and afraid.


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