I have poetry all in my head on my way back today. It was a bit of everything and a lot of jump scenes and broken wires but it was also soft breeze and lil white daisies and the icy bits on a mountain top and your toe dipping in snowflake waves. It all happened so quickly and for one second I have tropical moist prickling at my skin and the next moment I have cold cold cold cold summer night freeze. It could be a burst of colours busting at the seams or this big black hole sucking things right out of me. Okay maybe I am exaggerating but that is kinda my poetry and I like my words extravagent and loose but then they'll pull something like the moon. And I am so lost in telescopes and kaleidoscopes and something and everything and latety I can't seem to pull myself together because I somehow sort of like how I can fit in a twisted dimension not belong to me and it makes me feel comfy so I let the wide things be.
- m.x.f
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hideout
Poetrypoetry / prose / words there is a before to every after- this is mine, as m.x.f
