Where are the words?
They chase me
Then I chase them
Throughout the forest
Under
Over
Logs draped with green cloth
On an eternal rabbit chase
Into their burrows
I pursue my quarry
Catching fleeting glances
Then losing the words
Amidst the vast labrinth of my mind
Right in my palm
Then gone the next second
Taken to the wind
Like loose garbage
That will soon become another's treasure
And it isn't fair
The scales tip unevenly
With the weight of my heavy heart
And the feathers
Of the extinct bird I seek
I find myself facing another wall
And whether it's writer's block
Or the walls I accidentally built
To keep out the storms
I do not know
I see the notes written on the page
But they no longer play the melody
That used to already be inside me
I see the paint
Ready to explode into colourful joy
But unable to paint itself into beauty
I see the pencil
The cursed 0.5 mm syringe
Biding its time maliciously
Daring me to prick my finger
Along the edge of imagination and reality
And inject the poisonous graphite words
Filling my veins with the dark silver
That weights me down like lead
Yet traces wings upon my rib cage
And takes me into the sky
I long for the sweet caress of the words
That have abandoned
The weaknesses of my heart
So now my insecurities huddle alone at night
Cold and afraid and lonely
And needing the warmth
Of a single releasing
Word
That can define the difference between
Death
And
Freedom