sometimes i talk so fast that the world forgets what to do with me.
my mouth goes numb.
my mind hits a stop sign,
and i’m left sitting mid sentence on a thought i’ve failed to finish.
what is poetry // can we explain it? for if j.d. salinger took one more risk // and put holden’s thoughts in free verse, no capitals // would we be dropping flowery language in exchange for teenage angst?
did you know that i’ve got a knack for rapping i mean it’s really quite strange my personality isn’t filled with swagger but if you hand me the words i can spit a rhyme meaner and faster than drake and eminem if they tried combined.
but i’ve got more of a travis scott personality oh miss me with the kanye bull let’s not even go there
it must be that my throat is too well rested i just like
the sound of my voice
it’s got a nice youthful timbre
but it’s the content that counts and i’m afraid my batting average
isn’t great in that department.
oh you’re still here you’re still listening!
has it been milliseconds or years i keep editing what i want to say-what i’m trying to say is i agree
i wonder what you’re thinking
if our faces mirror one another right now
because mine must be one of deep thought
though the deepest i got was the edge on the shallow side.
water ripples but it’s strong / i used to think i could control the sink / with my chubby untrained hands / now i know the only things watery about me / are my tear ducts and my resume,
sometimes i sit with my thoughts for so long
gripping onto a funny anecdote
that will only make sense in the future
but i've lost it and my brain has to recover
from spinning so quickly
now we’re deprived of air
and i’m still sitting mid sentence
having gone around the globe.