Novelist

discrepancies stain my veracity
on the precipice, can't gain perfection, whirl into a perfect storm
It's perilous.
Vitriol is calmed
No one is harmed
But the writer themself, slicing and crumbling
Crumpled down towers, burning bright flowers
Hot with anger yet wistful in the wind

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Rewritten texts
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It's the way the cookie crumbles
It's the way the anger rumbles

It's the way they mumble.


Make it swift and make it work
Has to be fast, has to be worth

Vitriolic vitrification
Must be simple, alliteration
Precipice perilous perfect storm
Spinning out of sight, perfection
Rein it in, reign it fast
Don't let another one take the crown at last