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Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Deep Within My Notebook

One of many outlets I use to vent is writing; not just on this blog, but also in my notebook.  Words are often my mortar: they fill in the cracks when arts and crafts cannot.  Sometimes I look back at what I have written and I wonder what the situation was that brought me to put the pen on the paper. I wrote this last summer, but I can't recall whom I was so angry with.
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Last night
The grenade of frustration you implanted
In my head imploded.  The only relief valve came from shrapnel,
Piercing         blurry       portals
For hot tears to flow
R e m n a n t s      of
A     n     g     e     r
Still remain
Waiting
Pulsing
Ready
to Hemorrhage
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All I know is, I'm glad I wrote this poem instead of using its image, especially since I can't even remember the situation that lead me to write it.

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