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I do not care for words
today.
They carry too much weight.
Brought in on cargo ships
that struggle not to sink,
packaged in boxes
lined with velvet
and shrouded in bubble wrap -
the only way we know to
handle with care.
But the ship hits the bones of a building
and the words spill
into – water,
a layer of oil that sticks and stains
onto – newspapers,
gracelessly collapsing
into – headlines
that the paper boy has to struggle to
lift
and
throw
at your doorsteps;
onto – the shoulders
of people walking away from or
into – confrontation,
adding lead to every step
into – already crowded rooms
clouding the air with
heavy rain that doesn't fall
so silence hangs
uncomfortably
and no one can find the right words
even though they're all there.
They migrate from dictionary pages
that hold hope
to fill pages of synonyms for
loss,
heavy,
fear,
complacency
and now they're leaving prayers
to fill graves.
About this Poem
I started off aiming to write about something else, but it was a long, frustrating day and I was tired and sleepy so I put down the first line as I thought it, and then it just turned into a free write. With everything happening in my country and the world, and life, everything feels heavy and the words that carry them feel heavier. It is getting tough to hold them without being irresponsible about putting them down in haste.
Raining hearts. Very interesting poetry.
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