Empty Spaces

I am building empty spaces around myself
 self insulation 
 bubble wrap for the soul
to keep me from being noticed in a bad way
or a good way
or any way
anyway that causes the flushsweat spread in my face and a knot in my tongue
that a sailor would covet
I study this science of solitude
so that I may build empty spaces around myself
to drown out the clack and clatter of the rusted train my mind rides upon
armed only with a smile to empty a lions cage
I add one more layer



About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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6 Responses to Empty Spaces

  1. namelessneed says:

    would it be OK to reblog this fine piece on my blog/ My comment is “I can relate”


  2. Pingback: EMPTY SPACES | Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

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