Sunday, June 12, 2016

I hear the words in my head (scanned notebook)

I hear the words in my head before I
scribble them down, trying to make
out which came first, each letter
hatched out of an infinitity I can't
adequately define, I recall the
shape of her face, from slanted mouth
to almond eyes, but cannot create
a word that tells me what goes on
inside her head. We each live in a
self created world of our own delusion,
assumptions we use as facts, biases
we believe untainted, giving each
words we offer as proof, spelling it
out, spilling blood like ink, until
the whole page bleeds, and yet is
no closer to being real than a
page without them. I need to reach
in and feel her to know what is
real or not, to learn for myself what
she is made of -- this golden goose,
this fair princess, this figure of my
amazing imagination, I hear the words
in my head as I scribble and believe
no one of them.

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