Only In My Head

Shadows mark a passing phase,
like the lines on my arms
and the circles under my eyes
and the frog in my throat.
There's a road I can't quite
force myself to cross
without a hand to hold
or a guide to follow.
Or maybe it's a fork in the road
and neither path is cleared.
You use silence as an art
with your arms like a brush
and your eyes like a voice
(which say everything).
But my eyes are shut
so I don't hear a thing -
like always - but words are clearer
when you say them, anyway.
Missteps and mistakes
and misunderstandings along the way
and all the things I swore I said
(but only in my head)
amount to scribbles on a page
which you would never read anyway.
Words are safe when eyes can't see them
like hearts are safe enclosed behind ribs
like I am safe when I lock myself up.
Oh, how I want to be so very unlocked.

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This definitely just came out of my ass as I was sitting here mentally kicking myself for any number of missed opportunities. Parts of this I really like, but parts I still think are really weak. I didn't want to mess with the flow, so I just wrote what came out with little interference. Not sure it was a good choice, but that's how it came out.








"I keep feeling my eyes close shut. You know I love you sincerely, but now I just wanna be still and not move and not think: be still, be still, move and make me feel ill." Heatmiser Still