I think lots of thoughts in my mind
And build them up
And grow them
Until they are
Stories
Opinions
Theories
And more
But they stay there
Unsorted
Tangled
Like what happens to
Cords
Wire coat hangers
Bra straps
(I’m looking at you, Maroon.)
And when I try to write
Or speak
My words come out all wrong
For my thoughts are
Tangled
Unsorted
And so, I am unproductive
And remain mostly silent

Its starts as a spark
In the mind
And takes on form
Nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs
They become words, sentences, more
They flow to the mouth
And through the lips
Searching for ears to enter
To reach another’s mind
But
All ears are closed, or busy
The words are unwanted
So they return to the mind of the speaker
So the lips are shut
So the words stay in
And fester there, trapped, forevermore