cling-clangs against my brain

feign solutions but they’re all the same 


feasts for frantic fissions 

unbridled, undeniably out of 




the drug I’ve always craved

but can’t do a thing other than




did I say it wrong?

did they hear me right?


I’m sure of it 

So unsure of it


I may be wrong

maybe all is well


I stay and play

a version volley of how I came across


hop synapses

race to reason if I’ve done enough


for the people who needed me

the redemption of humanity


have I seen them fully?

will anyone fully see me?


I suppose the only way to show you

is to spill me out all over


this notepad which isn’t really paper

but a notes app


no way to try to be anything

especially not a poet


but here I am, my mind a soft stone 

my art an anvil 


thoughts so scrambled

ink is no good either 


I cut and scrape it out of me 

the liquid life that once was me


flows across

running down and all around 


ravishing red is left

you fully see me


an overthinker



© Candice Reineke 2020









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Pink Lady ►


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Candice Reineke

Sat 28th Nov 2020 21:31

Right, Paul?!

I edited this, as any overthinker would. 😂

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Paul Sayer

Sat 28th Nov 2020 07:37

Dam that OCD
If only people
could truly see.

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