Grains of Graphite Book 1

Talking to Myself

I talk to myself some days through stylized writing. 

Poetry is an art, as of late, I've found uniting. 

Recently, writing lead me to using more than one name. 

Those aliases' thoughts are one and the same. 

What would a vignette of my artistic life look like? 

Should I take a Rorschach test for my psyche?

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Sometimes, a cold cup of water's needed in the morning. 

When my writing's too depressing, it's a warning. 

The coolness is shocking and wakes my senses up. 

It's marvelous how you can draw conclusions from a cup. 

Then my love of music can cause a regression. 

Changing word meanings can trigger depression.

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At least I've plenty of content to write from anguish. 

Though I'd prefer not living in states of languish. 

My mind's too full of content I'd rather extinguish. 

There are strange things I've learned to distinguish. 

It would be nice if my mind were like an email inbox. 

Content to both throwaway and keep under locks.

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While it can be depressing, music's inspiration. 

Songs are often my poetry's causation. 

The titles of tunes can be my pieces' inspiration. 

My playlist is massive; there's lots of deviation. 

With this system in place, my work won't end. 

Music speaks to me; this inspiration's a godsend.