A Poem Is Born

Remember that poem I promised you guys from that stream-of-consciousness post? Yeah. Here it is. 

there are no words for the feeling in my chest

the swelling crescendo

the beckoning march

the tickle of words waiting to erupt but given no entry

no words are strong enough to capture

the horror

the wonder

the storm

I will scream and scream without hope of releasing

I will fight a tiger

climb a mountain

ride the storm

I will

I can

I know

I can’t breathe

I need air

I need

the words to tell you how I feel

tell you

how to fly

from the tops of trees

from the tops of buildings

from the top of my head

I need to give a part of myself but I have no words and

I can’t draw a picture beautiful enough to express what I’m feeling

there are no words

what do I do

help me I’m drowning

flying falling crying laughing

screaming

for help help help help help

is it freedom

is it love

is it hatred

is it horror

do I need to spread six feathered wings

or tell you of the six horned monsters under my bed

feathered hearts and souls and the wings of air that raise me upwards

light and darkness

the bottom of an oubliette

the top of a tower

I can’t type fast enough

there’s music

I’m breaking

let my soul breathe

let my body breathe

let my nose breathe

let the air breathe me

am I alright now

is this

a poem?

It is.

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