Thoughts Whispered into the Void

Bleeding

Maybe I should write at night

When my mind is awake

My soul sings

My heart is on fire

And I want to write, write, write

Because the poetry bleeds

It bleeds out of every pore of my skin

And it needs to be released

Needs to be spilt

Blood red on an altar or a dais or the crippling form of the paper beneath my fingers as I bleed, bleed, bleed

Watch it tap into my life force and just pull it out

It's both life and death

It sizzles inside my veins with fire that both renders me breathless with elation

And burns

Sears its way into my body

Carving out a steady path across my skin

And the skin breaks

And the bones twist

And the muscles clench

Because I am bleeding words and the paper cannot contain them

Nothing can contain them

That's why they spill

Out of my feeble little body

They spill down from the paper onto the floor and they keep going

Into the earth, the soil, hoping to find something they had once belonged to

Trying to find their origin

Because they don't feel like they come from me

These words that I bleed are coming from somewhere, something, out of my reach

And yet it reaches into me and lets its thoughts tumble free

But I am not free

I am not free

I am not free

This blood entraps me

Ensnares my mind

For I cannot staunch the bleeding even if I tried

I cannot quiet my mind no matter how much I desire

I cannot stop the bleeding of these words from my heart

Someone, anyone,

Stop them

Stop them

Stop them

I am a prisoner in my own body and it is bleeding me dry of all the words that ever existed in my soul

All the poetry that ever graced my heart

I will be empty...

Eventually...

It will tire

I will cease to be its vessel

And I know that even though the pain will cease so will the life

I am bleeding words

Stop them

Please

They are taking everything inside me with them