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Addicted

Need another hit of my poetic fix
Eyes red bleeding from reading
I am a little better or worse
Than a drug addicted person 
Could be me but I like pipe dreams
Poetry streaming 
Kisses are from the ceiling fan
Blowing on typing hands
Could this be my red romance 
Fact or fiction driven by diction

In my mind I am on an tropical island
Smiling wild and fuschia free in blue breeze
Could this be unhealthy this retreat
From the ruby reality
Of taxes life lows and highs
Meditation is going pretty good
Except for the music in my head
I hear it always despite no radio
Or streaming not on the pc

Then it comes to me 
Another poem or song or story
Giving me purpose and esteem 
Am I pompous for needing
The black bird of a word 
To set my caramel spirit free
I say that I am addicted
More like afflicted by creating
And if you are my tribe
That is a positive thing

Copyright © Karen Jones

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Book: Shattered Sighs