I have so much to say
but I can't write it down
thoughts are spiraling through my ears and into
my eyes but my hands
cannot translate
the murky, opaque chain of consciousness
weaving in and out of view.
I'm frothing, bubbling
ready to burst, to sing to something.
I'm trying to write words I know but
is a name
a word.
My rule is that I don't write names, it's cheating.
Names are far more powerful than words and name has a story
a background a connotation an emotion a lump in my throat when you stopped staying.
And if "you" is a pronoun and and a name is a proper noun does the extra "per"
mean the name takes up more percent in my mind?
I have so
much
to say.
Nothing is working just words, no proper ones.
I see it. I see what I feel and I feel it. I feel what I see.
I can't write it.
It feels like a warm ocean, unexpected, nice, then suspicious.
It feels like someone took the blood from my veins and replaced it with liquid doubt
now pulsing through every artery.
It feels like a favorite toy being glued back together. Still beloved, but never the same.
It feels like drowning.
It feels like falling.
I have so much to say.
Take my hand.
And help me.
*please