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.
