An avalanche of literary proportions
Thoughts poetic and sharp, lost
In the maze of my own making
Along the carefully disconnected avenues of the mind
I hear the noise inside me heighten, and I'm left to wonder
What kind of outlet does this cacophony require?
I knew I needed
To leave
Nudge away the lingering touches
Avert my gaze from self-serving ocular entreaties
Stop taking in the scents that make my imprisonment more palatable
Make tracks into a way that seems less laden with familiar tracks
So here I am in a Chiang Mai guesthouse
Life's sweet and easy, crowded with people but lonely
I long to be locked into conversation with
Just one entertaining soul
I still dream of distant lands
But do so with a smile on my face
And when I get sick of the trails I trace
I know I'm welcome at the next, the only place
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