so in my spare time
after a days studying
i stand on the pulpit
and talk to an empty room
shouting into the corners all the words i have written for people
who are not listening

like therapy i record these speeches
and play them back to remind me of the flow
of words
that could fill chalkboards whiteboards and lecture notebooks
but carry no weight

sometimes pray that the room is being captured
so someone can tell me to go
or perhaps the security guard finds some satisfaction
in seeing a heart unable to say no

the emptiness of the ribcage after picking up a weight that was too heavy to hold  
                        like bullet-shells in arteries
                        tearing up from the inside out
                        coughing up wounds that never close properly
entropic love consumes the sky     cloudwatching emotions
sitting alone                                       to make heads or tails of them
begging to be swallowed too          the winds had nothing to say

of course healing takes time  takes time  to  pay  back

each suture like silk each pin ***** a waymark

to be the song you play for others to listen too
                  to be listened to

I wish I'd never wasted poems on you.