Lost in a century
run-out and threadbare
I am curled up on your shoreline.
waiting
waiting for some thing to rise out of the sea
for something to happen
for you to wake and show me
that place on the map
where you begin.
Automatic writing from the great beyond. Poem fragments, mental illness, whatever. Come for the inscrutability, stay for the brevity
Lost in a century
run-out and threadbare
I am curled up on your shoreline.
waiting
waiting for some thing to rise out of the sea
for something to happen
for you to wake and show me
that place on the map
where you begin.
Writing on the Wall is a newsletter for freelance writers seeking inspiration, advice, and support on their creative journey.
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