No words slip from my tongue. No words emerge from my fingertips as they race across the keyboard. No words spill from my mind, trace the recesses of my brain, leave my lips with the taste of butterscotch. I have traveled far and wide, from one pole to the other then so far west I'm back in the east, but I still have no words. No words to describe this feeling, the one at the back of my throat every time I speak, the one tingling at my fingertips whenever I press them against the keys, the ones zigzagging my mind from dawn to dusk and even after that. No words to describe the tightness of my chest, whether from the way she tucks her hair behind her ear or the weight of today on my shoulders. The thoughts -- I chase them, but they always slip away just as I can feel them in my grasp. No words, no thoughts, no way to finish this poem not when it's ever-flowing, ever-growing, ever-changing, ever-there.
Mumbling a storm Tumbling like debris Trembling like a blade of grass Barely rooted in the ground Outside it's rather warm Maybe 90° While towards the core Sitting stubbornly on my *** It's a hurricane Trying to tear away Refusing to stay Yet lightning strikes the sand Reminding of a hidden glass shore Lost in a pool of sand Are the fragments of the soul.
- Jay M August 10th, 2020
I don't know what's going on with me, but it's strange and I don't feel right. Guess it's about time I wrote some more, got it all out rather than keep it floating in my head like a message in a bottle.
And in asking of self, most honestly, said “Are you afraid, once you’ve spoken the words, that you’ll truly be free? That you’ll fall off the earth without purpose or being Just because you’ve finally shared, what for so long you yourself could not see?“ I am afraid of this? Perhaps, maybe
You ever feel like you were meant to do something? Edging closer and closer towards creation. And then, the closer you get it the more negative your inner self becomes? I swear, half, or at least two thirds, of my own problems are just me talking to myself.
It's physical And emotional It's happy But calmly Without any flourishes Or bubbles I feel it in my chest A feeling of connection It's...warm? Not quite the right word It's lukewarm But bright And roundish Kinda like a sphere Sitting next to my heart Centered in my chest There's love But little magic It's pure Unfiltered Connection When I think of someone's face I see open eyes Open to watch another But not wide with shock I see a small smile I hear a voice Clear as a bell And indeed I think of pure Golden bells Not twinkling Not ringing Just a single Unbroken note I think of gold Or is it orange? Yellow? Orange with a yellow halo? It's energy But not radiant Not growing Not destroying Not dark The feeling I get When reading a classmate's essay Or reading a good fanfiction
All this Does not capture the feeling But at least I tried my best