Can’t Quit You
Want to write something other than poetry. Want to write something that will be honest and compelling. And when I sit down with a piece of paper and a pen, poetry happens. Want to blog or journal or review. Want to rant and rave. Want to confess. And when I sit down to collect the confessional, poetry happens.
Like a filter. Like a safety net. Like an addiction. Like a good thing that won’t leave me alone. Like listening to “Recollections” from Davis’s Big Fun during a thunderstorm.
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Poetry is a great form of ranting and raving and confessing.