The Choking
Somewhere
Between
My throat and my heart,
I choke
On my voice.
I gag,
Coughing curdles of coagulated blood,
Dry tears dripping from my dehydrated eyes,
Heaving ev'rything I try to digest,
Spitting words—
Hoping they learn how to speak.
I wipe the drool from my face.
So sick, I spittle my word vomit
After gorging and gorging on a linguistic feast—
Tossed word salad.
I just want
To speak.
I just want
To mean something
To somebody.
I just want
To say so much more than I can say by myself.
I often say nothing instead.
Perhaps this is why
The words clog my throat,
Piling on top of each other
Like bricks building
Some sort of bizarre
Monument that measures
The weight of my silence.
Sometimes
I'm afraid that
I
say
nothing at
all - even when
I find
it interesting
to spill
a thought
frommyhead.
Sometim es
I need to
Shut up
And
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poem by Tim Stensloff
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