Damn straight, I’m writing about it.
Are you really that surprised? This
is how I live; I am a universe of words,
an ocean of metaphors, a cave of confessions.
Make up your mind, man.
I don’t know how not to think
so I paddle in shallow waters,
scared of drowning in thoughts.
I know I am always trying to
count the countless knots of my contradictions,
and I know that it’s my favourite colour but
sometimes grey isn’t acceptable.
You are so irrelevant.
You cannot call me out
on the strength of my current
if you don’t know how to swim.
I guess I should let you know now:
You will never read this poem.