layered blood-thick, brown-washed,
on the walls of my restive seclusion —
the elemental, egregious thoughts fight
against the other for more screen-time —
tea dregs & shunted ideas pass through
grey matter, spilling out cranial fluids
of creative flow —
acid, sweat, water — the dust of dread,
the diligence of death —
how the ritual of words is mired in
the affliction of being.
© Anmol Arora
Linking it up with The Tuesday Platform at WRT where I am hosting this week — I have proposed an optional challenge to write a poem in praise of one’s source of inspiration for the last day of the poetry month.
My #30Days30Poems can be found here.
(Inter)National Poetry Month