Click clack click clack
Is someone there?
No, It’s just another story in my head.

My characters are all really me no matter how hard I try to change them

I write story after story hopeing maybe they cheer up some

Is it ok if I write sad stories because my life used to be one

I’m sorry if I’m talking to myself I’ll try to keep it down

Go on back to your life and I’ll go back to the many worlds I have used to escape from

But I know that I’ll always have my typewriter no matter the outcome



I write poetry like coughing up blood.

It never comes when i am ready for it.

Only when you have 3 minutes waiting in line at a drive through.

Maybe it likes to be rushed.

Hoping the rawness of my heart won’t have time to be rationalized by my head.