29 mar 2012

i look at the words on a page from my past
and i wonder
what became of my brain -
where went my ability
to assemble words in a way that drew out their meaning.
like bricks assembled
into a house
or
into an outhouse,
words are merely construction material
that we place on the framework of grammar
and bind with the mortar of punctuation
to build a conversation
or a monologue,
an essay
or a poem.
back in the day, i had mad skillz.
now, perhaps, i am simply mad.