empty space on the computer screen
pulls out words from my heart.
totally wrong words, feelings i didn't mean
to think, or feel, or
feelings i thought were long gone
my heart is not yet digital, not yet able
to put logic in the driver seat
and the craziness is driving me nuts.
i didn't know i was.
if i see what i feel in the words pouring out
if i can neaten the mess
surely clarity and honesty are good?
clear as pain or heat or
feelings i thought were
gone?
no, they fill me and burn me and ***** into the day
my skin wants to tear itself off
why does silence start to scream?
empty rooms flood with dark?
writing is dissecting, peering into the depths
of biology and nerves and life.
a logical eye labels the mess and it is no longer a mess
but i'm still afraid of what i did
of what i am in the empty spaces.