Swallowing

 

Swallowing

Words

Thoughts

Sadness

Requires me to first open my mouth.

 

What if I didn’t ask for it?

No, I didn’t open my mouth.

Shut.

If nothing comes in,

Nothing should come out?

 

But something got

in a fraying soul

Transforming it into

expansive aches,

cold-doused in more words.

 

Words

Just words, they could be something,

But, they’re just marks on a page.

No matter how they are scratched in,

They are fleeting still.

 

Crumple it up, those words.

Breeding aches, they

find a way in,

But never get out.

Get out, get out.

 

Somehow, I didn’t swallow

but yet evidence shows,

my soul is clamped shut.

The only space left got

Swallowed up.

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