my words
are out of control
out
of
focus.
i can't put them
in any kind of
order.
i am twisting-spinning
in this time warp
this
vacuum
where my thoughts
are
invisible.
where
words are running
and
bumping
grinding
into each other.
i can't quite
grasp
the elusive idea.
lately it
has always
been
just
beyond
my
reach.
isolation
is a choice
i made.
it hasn't a voice.
i have a perpetual calendar.
this morning
i turned the blocks on it.
it
read
november 12 2004.
i
became
depressed.
damn!
november
is
only
12 days
old.
11-12-2007
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem