I breathe in the life that surrounds me
listen to the million conversations
people utter and forget when words leave their lips.

I grab at them and keep the ones
that cage my formless sentiment

I tuck them into the folds
of my eyelids,

I close for clarity,
night comes, and the world becomes my eyelids,
escape, fly, and play in darkness
the words

but in this freedom they need to be put down
with guns
fire need and purpose,

restlessness.

my hands tremble as the words seeping
from my eyes to the lines on my fingertips
spiraling inward.

they need to be
put down or they will leave and fly away
run the course of being eaten and said
eaten
and said

mouth after mouth
chewed
spat out
and finally

lost.

never to be more than gossip and hushed murmurs
of could be
poetry