there's words running a mile a minute in my head
but once i open up that blank page there's nothing left
they dance dance
always out of reach
i catch a fraying thread,
but now it's all unraveling
i think my english teacher has built inside me an odd thought on rhyming
i would like it if it didn't remind me of
grade school days sat with my head on my hand
chin digging into my small palm
contemplating
oh, how'd i be thinking and thinking
some words rhyme
some words don't
and then there are those that you think should because they sound like they do
but it's all an illusion
only words pining for each other saying:
we should be together
we should, we should
and then my train of thought is gone
only an echo in my head
where are they now
they sounded so right before
this is why i no longer write
not because i don't want to
actually, maybe that's part of it
but i do, oh how i want to
but because i can't
words, those terrible lovely things
are lodged in my head
pushing and squeezing to get out
but there's not enough room
and i don't have enough time
so they never do
and so all that's left is that whisper in my head telling me
hey this could've been great
you could've loved it
it was something about once, twice, and thrice wasn't it?
you can find it it's not far
(they dance dance
always out of reach
i catch a fraying thread,
but now it's all unraveling)
and that's how it ends
//
what happens to me after reading all the bright places and then sitting with my thoughts and a bottle of honeyed jasmine tea. sorry i've been so absent
