say something.

25 Apr

frustrated.
my sober tears, bleeding
onto pages in scribble – true to form.

my words
have paused on my fingers.
breathing, but waiting
to make sense.

they must be somewhere
discovering themselves
because
i am feeling nothing,
or everything incoherent.

my relief is in making all of this beautiful,
only i have run out of color.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: