Untitled

A bit removed I seem to be lately. Less terrestrial, more abnormal. Fully inclined toward solitude. Peace here, only in my room. Hold the pin, scratch on the paper. Bleeding ink, caging letters. Don't know what I want Don't know what I feel. Interpersonal..... seems real. Sunlight dancing before my eyelids. Foreboding background noise leaves me slighted. Don't know what tomorrow will bring. Revisiting memories that should be left buried. A writer's niche, a writer's curse. Unearth what others never realized under the dearth. Coming from the depths, roots, heart of me. I am reaching, aiming, searching....