I wrote a poem today

a good poem, a nice poem that i intend to edit and tweak for a few days before letting it see the light of day, but what is important is that i w rote a poem today

it was so wonderful so perfect to feel the words flow out of me again, oh how i have missed it

getting my emotions down is perfection,. just absolute bliss.

I could do that all the time, jsut constantly spouting adjectives and phrases that have meaning only to me.

I thionkt hat is wha ti love msot of all, that whenstragers look over my shoulder to see what i am writing, they are suddenly even more confused than they were before, i have this language in my soulthat pours out and some people like it, some people love it and some peopl even endeavor to claim to udnerstand it, but i only know the exact of it. Even i had the deatils in my subconscious but i know, somehwere in thsi brain of mine that can get a 1350 on the SAT but cant exert the effort to bass a history test this brain that encoruages me to psychoanalyze my friends for my entertainment but wont let me say a simple thing to someone i love. This brain has something tortured and beautiful in it and others may glimpse it, others may hate it and other may like it, but only i know the truth. This beautiful little secret that i reveal time and again in my words but no one can wuite find it, no one knows but me