I want to believe in a higher power,
but I feel such a connection to the Earth.
grass caresses my shoulder blades
pollen coats my finger tips

I keep my fumbled words in a pocket book with old receipts,
frayed on the edges
and yellowed with age
they stick around hoping that one day I can do them justice.

Love letters coat the walls of my lungs
I cough them up with bits of phlegm
and spit them on the sidewalk

I press too ******* pencils
break my fingers at the knuckles
but these fumbled words demand to be written

So I grind my teeth
and paint my taste buds
with half forgotten memories.