"sticcking" poems
sometimes, out of great pensivity,
instead of telling the truth
when people ask "how are you"
I hold on to the idea of "privacy"
not today
for the second time this week
I break
the parts of me I dammed shut
came bursting out fast as Niagra Falls
these words I scream are like rocks,
breaking happiness on friends faces
like stained glass churches
and my happy dust falls away
leaving everyone in stunned numbness
shadows of questions drip off their faces
as if they had wicks sticcking out of their heads
what do you say to people you love
when you didn't mean to say anything at all?
nothing.
you run out of there
as fast as legs can move
and hide sobs
with pillow cases
Jun 10, 2017
Jun 10, 2017 at 1:01 AM UTC