"say what you
mean to say"

isn't as easy as french bread when
all the words build up inside your
skull like ideas born to a warm
dim place with inadequate
space to learn, convinced
to fight rather than
reason amongst themselves for
rationed pleasures like inspiration,
expansion, acknowledgement from the
conflicted world they call home, someone
that allows for only one or two
survivors every so
often, two bold witnesses
battle-scarred and cynical

limping to your ears