Tuesday, 13 November 2012

The Spiral

The Spiral

A poem is an emotional thing
Driven by what’s inside
It bursts from you
Tries to cling to everyone it sees
Either symbiont or parasite

How can I write about the spiral?
It isn’t a poem
It is nothing
A hole, absent of that desire to live

And yet it consumes
Quietly, like a crack in a bucket
Letting you drip away
Until you realise there is nothing anymore


(13th November 2012)

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