The writer quoting the writer
told me why I was
such a bad writer
I should have known
I should have seen it
Give me the damn slate
I’ll damn well clean it
I’ll build a world then
just in my mind though
fuck all the critics
just my own kind yo
I’ll be the master
I the world builder
Hand paint each slum
highlight every wilderness
Watch how I focus
with my tongue poking out
freed from meaning at last
free to see to my own sprout
what
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