Let’s get one thing straight

I don’t like miscommunication
I don’t like misunderstanding
And I don’t appreciate you assuming
I like doing this poetry thing

It’s a labor of lust

I don’t do it for anyone but me
Still, I get the feeling you get me
You get something from it

You get it

A fleeting feeling
A newfound thought
A deeper wound
A tighter stomp

I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking
“He does this for the riches”

But no
I do it because
It itches the inside of my skull
All day, every day, and
I can’t get away from myself
Long enough
It’s hell
Might fly off the shelves
Might be on the black market

I could care less

When it’s bad, it’s good
When it’s worse, it’s even better
When it’s left unwritten, it’s at it’s best
Don’t ever get mistaken

Ink never forgets

While my mind decides the next line it’s set to write
I sit here in a coffee shop early in the morning
Asking myself

Where have I gone?
Where have I come from?
How do I plan on getting back?
Why would I ever want to?

Let’s get one thing straight
I didn’t choose to start writing poetry
Poetry chose to ride with me

What was poetry thinking?

I question it’s credibility

Sacred Geometry, Hommie