When Words Fail
Where are my words?
I know they don't come from my heart
They are riddled with lies and half truths
My heart is revolted by them
They don't spring from my head,
My brain is made of numbers and scientific certainty
But my words are made of magic
Are they in my fingers as I type,
Picking out a rhythm on the keyboard
With no volition but their own?
Or do I pluck them from the air
Snips of other's conversations
Woven to suit me?
Why is it that they come when I don't want them,
When poetry is not the answer I need
But I can't stop the words
They are a wall of water and the floodgates are no where to be found
So I hide and wait for the words to pass
They haunt my mind and my memory
And they will not go away
Except for the ones that I want to stay
Which flee like snowflakes before a fire
And when I need them on my side
And call them from whichever depths they arise
The wrong ones stumble forth
Leaving me to wonder if I ever had the right ones to begin with
I need new words
I'm no Shakespeare but I'd like to more than the girl who only opens her mouth when there is nothing there to come out of it
Where are my words?