Writing About Not Writing


I remember you telling me

what I could hold in my hand

I try to hold yours

but sometimes my fingers are slippery


I try to pick up the fountains in every city I visit

and only get pieces I can’t take only give

I want to leave something here

but I don’t have anything to spare


tell me

how have I run out of words


I still have so many things I want to say but I

can’t I can’t I can’t


I write down my mind so I can feel it twice

What does that mean for my thinking

if all this thinking is just what I’m worth

and I just can’t do it anymore


Isn’t that all we are

trauma walking on two legs

and I can only forge keys

when I’m already in the cage


tell me

if I still have so many things I want to say

how have I run out of words

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 7/22/20

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allets's picture

Read A Dictionary

No word shortage there . Twice felt mind notes - a great description for poem working with wordtools. I like these notions. The fountain is cool. You r back! ~S~