I am writing thoughts in the teal blue journal
Grasped in my hands at all times lately
Or crammed into my purse just to carry for comfort
Conversations I used to have between me, myself and I
Secretly in the hallways between brain cell blocks
Are being had on blank, ivory-colored paper
Deciphering the cacophony and organizing my mind
Without having to stumble so much over incoherent ramblings
Lines on each sheet serving as sound proof walls
One voice in my head gets to speak at a time
And the arguments I used to end up in
Have become orderly and civilized
SW 03/2018
This sounds like a good idea, which I may try at some point. But I’m afraid I’d come to miss the arguments and chaos in my mind.
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