The Shore
I envy those whose words align with the thoughts in their head
Those who speak without stutter or delay,
If what they say is true
If life and death are in the power of the tongue
I've spent most of my life letting mine decay
The corpses stuffed,
Crammed in my head
Tripping over each on my way
To the body with life,
The body with a pulse that hold the words I need desperately to say
But before I can
It keels over and dies,
Just another conversation where my participation is the reflection of death in my eyes
I'm wading in a watery grave
Holding on to the rope to pull me ashore
Holding on to the hope that I will be saved
Someday,
Someday,
I will feel that shore
M