I drank the ink poured down the sink then sank a little lower I wish to think with lenses pink I’ve wisdom of a knower But I confess I am a mess as shown within my stanza So I shall dress my deep distress with adjective organza
Original 10/05/2020, Edited 12/05/2021
There’s no dull background noise; Everything sits in the small foreground. The music; curated for a young child, Is as conducive to creative writing as Feeding a lazy dog all of my pens And burning each of my notebooks. This room knows my name, Yet insists on calling me mother At every conceivable moment; At each attempt to concentrate On putting pen to digital paper. Although, I’m not being charged extra For dairy-free milk and chocolate syrup.
My dearest Armistead, Why are you wearing this façade? You know without me, You crumble. We together, as should always be, Place purple ink lines and curves On ice white paper, To form resolution from heartache, Reason, from mental confusion. Give up the game! You need to release those feelings. Don't bottle up, or ignore me. The delightful duo, us together, Make words flow from letters. I'm disappointed. You haven't visited me lately, Have you forgotten me? How when life throws a curve ball, We've always written it out, Iterated logic from feelings. Please, write back, It's our survival. Your sanity, expression, explanation. I worry for you. All my deepest concerns, Armistead