Spare Parts

A part of me is lost
Fragments of phalanx rise to the top
In a river of words
Blood splattered lettering
Smudged onto cartridge paper
Thick set and rolled
Ammunition for the brain

Firing rhymes
from the top of my head
Adjectives overflowing
Caressing cinnamon ledgers
Dusty tomes of epic tales
Offset with coffee stains
And sprinkled with sweat

Parts of me are misplaced
Welded to sheets of carbon copy
Skin speckled vellum
Thoughts chiseled into slate
Cold and haunting – unwanted
Exhausted ideas settle within grooves
Burnished in birchwood

Though the fountain is never stemmed
Poems pour forth,involuntarily
Inevitably, without fear
Raw and ready to be moulded
Fusing with my mind
Until possessed and weary
I submit to their will

Parts of me are missing
Yet I claim my soul, my own

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