debris

a poem

words hiding from me

like fish from the hook;

the bait is just a sharpened blade

blatantly ready to cut up each one

and neatly arrange their insides on display

for you to gawk at

with your bulging, scrutinizing eyes.

I dip my hands into water

and grasp at drops

hoping to take the ocean's wisdom for myself,

but they remain empty

and the water stays unchanged;

the waves run away from my grip

and spill onto the shore,

a cold kiss on my legs as I kneel.

the cold climbs past my knees

and settles into my chest,

hidden from your sight.

I can't grab the water by its neck

but I can sieve it of debris,

my hands fill with the corpses of my words,

my lips revive them and I can speak again.

if I open my mouth

the tar in my skull flows out,

if I open my eyes

the light casts a bright ray onto the scenery

and I see words like flowers

blooming all across the field

waiting to be picked

and braided into a bouquet of poetry.

and I gift it to you.

photo from pinterest