i got so much to say i trip over my words
They overproduce they clog my mind
My words are my bones
My thoughts are my spine
My mind my home
My memories the marrow
My brain are my feet
My eyes the window  
My laughs are my nerves
My body is a temple
My Knowledge my food
It’s how i eat
My voice are my hands
They reach out in need
My tears are my blood
They flow through me
My opinions are my teeth
They’re sharp as can be
My truth are my lungs
It keeps me breathing
My past my hair
They fall upon me
The present my skin
I’m in it daily
The future my heart
I fear but can’t see

I feel open and raw each time my heart beats it morphs into another emotion along with my thoughts twisting itself into another subject all these loose ends consistently entangle themselves with each other my pen is a mic voicing my thoughts though it can’t quite focus for though i quiet them down still they chime i feel a piece of resentment towards each associate in my life including myself i feel like a visitor in my own body i wonder does the landlord know new cuts have appeared upon her body ?does she know there’s a disconnect between her voice her thoughts? I’d hate to move out so soon but **** this place is weird