The last hours linger, my eyes drop, my creativity flows nowhere, l shake myself side to side, my brain mutters, crys and searches for words, that sing together upon the page.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The last hours linger, my eyes drop, my creativity flows nowhere, l shake myself side to side, my brain mutters, crys and searches for words, that sing together upon the page.
Hhhmmmm . . . I feel that. I especially like how you characterized your brain: “my brain mutters, crys and searches for words.” Was the misspelling of “crys” purposeful to represent your tiredness at this point in the marathon? I think it adds to the sluggishness of the moment!