Let’s find out if I can write a third poem in under an hour to make up for not writing any over the weekend!


I came to the conclusion the other day

(with some help)

That I’m open about my past

But closed about my present.


The past is so surreal,

Like it happened to somebody else,

But not possibly me,

Else how would I be here?


The present though,

Is like water behind a clogged dam,

Except I don’t even know it’s clogged

Until the rain comes.


Trying to unclog the dam

When the reservoir is this full

Without spilling any water out of my eye-holes

Is pretty dam(n) hard.


So to avoid the risks

I’ll simply let it fill

And fill, and fill

Until I can’t hold it back and it all falls out and drowns everyone but especially me.