I spend too long thinking about words. About what to say, when to say it, When to get the words out of my head That choke me, suffocate me, Put me in desperation, Sadness, need, greed. I shove them down my throat and hope They will keep me going for a while. I consume my language quick So I can't move or breathe or see, Words filling me from tip to toe. On a vacant breath I will spill into your mouth My poetry and lust, predate upon Your silence. Know that this is just Temporary. Fleeting. Almost over. Almost.