Words Instead

Tears on the verge.
Cresting at the corners.
Stopped.
Disappearing.

I don’t need them.

Fluctuations
Never-ending,
Too-sad music I can’t turn off.

I’m still listening.

Epiphanies that unravel
the Everything in me,
Refusing to transcend the heart-link,
to enable flight,
Change.

I walk anyway.

To be real,
open, and somehow close.
There is something here
waiting.

Deep seeds,
planted, watered, dormant.
Great trees?
Weeds?

Stunted.
Broken.
Too late for the Sun
to warm, and coax the buds
meant to be?

Tears on the verge,
never descending.

Words do instead.

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “Words Instead

Comments are closed.