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It seems so absurd
scribing
just to be heard
over omnipresent
ambient noise
of thousand word equivalencies
inundating the cortex of my visuals
with digital sensations –
perpetually connected –
no cessation.
I seek out dry ground
on high ground
where third eye is found,
and dare to clear
my atmosphere
with plugs for ears
and blinders.
Turn pages like
new leaves in life
over d-rings in a binder –
starting fresh in
my expression
of new lessons .
Soul confessions,
heartfelt
like they’re cardiac arresting.
Self portrait my reflection
through the physical connection
of paper plane
and metal ball
within the pen
I use when blessing y’all
-HymnAgen
