longing
to be rid of the words
rattling inside my skull
pounding my temples with their
metaphorical feet and
proverbial fists
i scribbled them into this
notebook late at night
like some candlelit victorian scholar
hands black with ink
but now
trapped inside these pages the
words continue to fight pleading for
more apparently it is not enough to be
penned
they whisper through my
lips and urge to be spoken
i longed to get them out of my head yet now
they want to be in others
they motion me to the stage but
i dont bend to
their whims of being heard so
they stay trapped in these
pages which are either rustling
with the wind or from the
sighs of the words' disappointment
YOU ARE READING
metamorphosis
Poetrya collection of poetry written during quarantine, the tumultuous 2020 school year, and the entering into a post-covid world. randomly updated.
