READ ('RED')

I'm tired of rhyming, so I came here. Not tired of it, just needed a break from it to just free-write. My family is asleep. I stayed up to clean and smoke a little weed. There I go rhyming again. I think it's just a habit. I'm a lyricist at heart. I think music is the next best thing to love. So I often find myself stringing words together in harmonious ways. I guess I call it poetry. But the terms are so synonymous. Maybe I'm a poet or a songwriter. Do titles really matter? My brain is scattered. An absolute frenzy. It's a wonder how I articulate my thoughts at all. It's where I find solace. Saying everything I want to say openly. In this art, I've found that. A way to feel. Does it cripple my ability to have in-person conversations? Not at all. In fact, I've found that the older I get, the better my communication skills have gotten. It has taken so much in believing in myself and knowing that my ideas are valid.  I was conditioned to believe that they weren't. So I'm slowing convincing myself that those were never my permanent traits and I am ever-changing. And I just have to the love and appreciate the person that I was, but dissociate myself with the qualities of her that have been holding me back.