tye364

Laid on the table is
a list of:
every grievance
every dream
stacked ten pallets high
ream upon ream
every memory
every epiphany
every insult
every daydream
left unsaid
to whom it may concern:
I'll let the rest of the world
scream what I can't put into words.

Meanwhile, the pen rests idly
by the side of that stack
unused, cap at the end
but the ink bleeds
where it likes
either along the path of least resistance
or until it meets an errant hand.
Wash it off, quickly
or else the letters build themselves
into the imaginings and angry retorts
that not even I want to hear
from my mouth.