These days I’m currently hard at work going through my third draft, yet I still thought I should start posting some smaller pieces on the blog, starting with this recent one. I’m no poet, and poetry confuddles me a lot more often than it gets to me, but sometimes I feel it, and I’ll write something, no matter the result.
At some point I became the Minotaur in my own story,
and reality flickered around me, creating walls that weren’t there,
voices that would not cease, and I the siren amidst it all, calling out,
from within the veritable darkness of my mind, at the center of the labyrinth.
Won’t you come slay me?