I am stagnant.
I repel inspiration.
The essence of simplicity is simply nowhere to be found.
Where was I when the waters withdrew?
I was sleeping under a bridge, choking on coal dust.
I was in the fetal position sucking on the teat of denial.
I was losing myself in battles my mind had already lost.
For days now I have had a poem on the tip of my fingers; this is not that poem.
For nights now I have pretended phone sex was a virtue and I was the most virtuous of all.
You may not believe in anything and that is okay because honestly who am I to care or for that matter to care about you?
I am starving for the crumb of a new thought or idea.
Inspiration and I only speak on a need to know basis.
The essence of simplicity like a blip on the radar screen is disappearing farther and farther out to sea.