This is my new challenge.
Writing with an old skill,
In new surroundings.
For no apparent reason,
I have decided to think my thoughts.
Online.
Again.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
The cursor is like my childhood.
Static and full of ADD-like twitches.
I don't even care about form today
I am in my element, I've had a taste of Chaos
And the warm winds continue to blow.
I don't like form, other than my own
I learned a way to be less like him
Defy his advice, because I love this way
The old fear festers under my skin
Like scratching your wrists full of worms
When Cicadas Cry, what disturbing inspiration....
This fear is like....oh god with the metaphors..
It's simple. And (dirty.) This fear,
As long as I have a heartbeat.....
No...as long as my heart has reason to beat
The fear will always be under my eyelids
Right where no one else but me can see it
Exactly where it should be.
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