filler.

Being an admitted over-thinker, there are times when my thoughts go into overdrive. A million words & ideas to be conveyed. 50 slots to properly place them. I have trouble conveying my thoughts to people at times. Poetry is my escape from that. I don’t want to write poetry anymore, today. I tire of escaping, running. Stand still. I might move tomorrow. Maybe you will, too. Closer to myself, closer to you.