by Erich Michaels
I spend so much time in my head that when I come out I am itchy and strained
Cold, dry air tightens my cerebrospinal fluid soaked skin
The conversations carried out in this alien world are clunky and forced
The ones in my head ran like quicksilver and you’d laughed at every jest
Pouring my heart out didn’t ring saccharine and your eyes mirrored intent
In my head I didn’t carry uncertainty like a leaden blanket, ending sentences in…?
In return you punctuated every sentence with
I love you .
Erich Michaels describes himself as “just trying to share the human experience.” He has a bachelor’s degree in creative writing, but find himself writing SOPs (lather, rinse, repeat) in order to make a living, which can be detrimental to the creative process. You can find him on the road to recovery at Erich Michaels.Every journey…
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