There Are Other Pages In The Sea

I’m starting to remember everything I wrote
& it sounds like what I’m writing
Surface level occurrences leave letters untyped
I have no good lines to cement in ink
No real lines
Fictitiously mining, digging for some real reasons
Blame it on the circumstances and the seasons
My justifications haven’t been enough this week
I’ve been chipping away slowly
Trying to get to the core of something bone-deep
Moments left uncapitalized
Polluted thoughts and diverted attention
Holding all the pieces of information in my head
Redundantly recycling recollections and reflections
Looking for the clear path and purpose
Clear to cloudy like windshield wipers on low speed in a rainstorm
I’m an open book with a few pages missing

3 thoughts on “There Are Other Pages In The Sea

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