Pounding the sidewalk as daylight turns to dusk. Seething anger released each time my feet hit the sidewalk. Angry at the lie and because I can see straight through it like shattered glass and because the source thinks they're clever and I wouldn't notice it. A bitter after taste in my mouth that seems to be permeating through my core. If you're going to lie do a better job of it.
Pounding leads me to a place that I've gone by, but never into. There is a happy ending though. Who knew that a tattered photo, broken bottles and blown out safes combined with a really shitty day could be the spark to make me fall in love with my written work again.
I guess creativity works in mysterious ways.
3 comments:
"Pounding leads me to a place that I've gone by, but never into." So true! I've found my writing door rarely opens when I knock politely.
wow. wow... well that is a day.
it was indeed! I've been rejuvenated, something I've been drained of in the last few weeks. :)
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