Wed, 06/11/2014 - 23:15 -- vsilva


They say the best writers write what they know,

But lately I’ve been losing my mental going off my rocker all existential.

I’ve been going off on points of tangency trying to crack the code that’s right in front of me.


You see, the last time I wrote was months ago

It’s feeling more like an obligation like the words are weighing and I cant stand the adoration

            “you’re so good” makes me brood more than I should.

They say the best writers write what they know

And I don’t know why I started in the first place,

When I was little this used to be fun but its been a long time since I let my innocence run.

            God are you there? Because I don’t know anymore.

The closest I felt to you was putting pen to paper, creating beauty and letting words fly

They say the best writers write what they know but I don’t think I know you anymore it’s been a long time since I set your words free.


In the beginning there was the word and we’ve been neglecting and going off on what we haven’t heard and lost sight of what’s right.

Of what’s left,

Of what’s good,

Of what’s bad,

Of what’s heaven,

Of what hell,

Because this is the real world and we fell too far to remember

The way words glow like embers in our minds when life becomes too much

The way the words pull us back from the pits of anxiety

They way words resonate in our heads when insomnia becomes your best friend


They say the best writers write what they know

All I know is I’m done letting out empty words in exchange for hallow smiles and sharp denials.

I can’t find the time to set up my shrine it’s becoming too much for me because when the smiles become too loud the embers won’t die out,

I’m too scared to fan that flame

Please tell me if I’m doing this wrong.


Words always search for more than just paper

When our ribs cave in

And thinking about everything I’m thinking about

Becomes panic attacks on the way to passing period.

Words still search for me

Because poetry and music make me happy

But that shit doesn’t make any money.

Because despite all that,

Words still search

And those embers grow stronger.

Please tell me if I’m doing this right.


The best writers write what they know and all I know is



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