Every living cell is so alive,
The hum from trembling is grotesquely melodic
And i am filled with exclamation marks.
There is so much oxygen;
Breathe in, breathe out,
Trip over the top of that loop.
The familiar faces in a familiar crowd seem so over bearing
And no one sees how frantically i am reciting a dead man's words in my head.
These four walls are open
But they are closing in
(At least the walls of my mind are)
And i am being compressed,
Particles interlaced with molecular worry.
-by holly boyd
YOU ARE READING
Words We Cannot Speak
PoetryPoems; Woe and hope, love and despair Poems mend us, they repair. Broken souls mixed with broken minds, Poems teach us what it is to be alive. They offer thoughts to inspire. They give us hope to aspire, They answer unanswerable questions They offer...
