I didn’t edit these much, a few spelling errors. Reading them now I’m genuinely surprised at how they wrap up. What do you think of my raw poetic instincts uninhibited.
Where am I in this room. Why must it be so cold, here in this room. There’s noise, I strain my mind to hear music, I’m sure I hear it but I am afraid it will return to being noise. My throat is on fire but not from words. My mind is a mousetrap I’m melting into my shoes. I don’t need help. Leave me to this room.
I love her. I love her like I love a song I’ve only heard once, I love her this much much and some more. I love her and she’s in my past. A fleeting picture of raw beauty, she is. I don’t remember her figure, I barely remember her face, or name. Sienne. Sienne your figure and face are almost gone. But your love is still a song.
Pine don’t drop me now. Pine you don’t know what I am, but I know what you are. What you are, and what you are to me. I’ll take what you are and make it mine. Make it me. But not permanently. Poor pine. Poor me.
What’s this, acid in your craw? Eating notches in your jaw.
That last one clearly isn’t a poem, it’s just something I thought of i suppose.