Who am I to blame for this embargo on words
so suddenly placed in my throat
it chokes me
stifling much needed expression even as my fingers jump
from strings to keys
from pen to soundless paper
life has number and pitch
but no definable English syllables or even enunciations
I am at a loss.
For years the ability to relate chaos and joy
to little notebooks and folders has been an escape
but it is a trap in itself
when there are no words to describe
that which I feel.
Breathless
I am breathless as I pace
aching to turn back the hands of the clock
and regain lost time
lost life wasted when I was a child playing a role
playing a game
breathless is the sensation
that feeds the euphoria of dreaming with eyes wide open
and never needing to wake up to reality
because they have become one and the same
I may be without words
but for better or worse I am chained to these hands
and this heart which can learn
to speak without a sound.