It seems like I have nothing to say

until I sit behind the keys
and listen to the patterns
in the silence around

watching the rise and fall
of people in their anger,
in their freedom and joy,
anything they might know

currently.

It seems like I have nothing to say

without reopening healed wounds
that no one wants to read
words without pain
or love so sweet it's sick.

And then I think too much,
I really don't think at all,
close my eyes and feel
the keys quivering so

intently

beneath my delicately
disastrous fingertips
unpolished and broken.

It seems like I have nothing to say

but nothing is something too
and thoughts don't have to
be worth much to be sold,

hence that overused quote
"A penny for your thoughts"
sell them because people
people don't know how
to think for themselves

without poetry,

pain,

love so sweet it's sick,

or inspiration.

It seems like I have nothing to say today,

then tell me,
what did you just read?