Blocked behind the four walls I hide in, back at square one. My mind is a projection reel of a crash and burn scene on repeat. A classified Cold Case. How many wrongs must one go through to find a right? The right, I left, confused in a parking lot. Misdirection. I'm looking backward and my love's moving forward. My world has been depicted in shades of black. Happy colors went missing. Offering a reward if found but have been handed a box of crayons and told to start over instead. Smothered in bubble wrap my brain struggles to pop itself free. Nothing can save a mind from the gutter. Address unknown. I'd gladly draw a map but the compass is broke.
YOU ARE READING
Insane Ravings of a Munk
PoetryA past history full of scattered emotions and experiences. Written in a series. Wrapped in a bow as a gift to you all.
