I keep Deleting

Posted bysickybeatPosted inIdentity, Life, Words, Language, and ImageryTags:, , , ,

There is a motif in my words now.

I used to have a gift for darkness,

Or perhaps, just holes in a jaded heart.

When I gave the darkness language,

The pain glittered.

And now, my words only bubble and pop on Occasion.

But, I am okay with that.

Published by sickybeat

I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty

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