Unscripted

What am I

When I am not a thumbnail

An emoji

A jumble of pixelated parts?

What are my words

When they escape from my mouth

Unedited

Unscripted

Unable

To be deleted?

I am skin freckled and pale,

Eyes tired and red,

Lips dry and fingers hangnailed.

 I am stomach full of four cups of sloshing coffee

Brain full of sixteen hours nonstop groggy

And those eight empty ones

And that empty mug

And that empty heart when I feel lonely because I’m so afraid you won’t like the real

Me.

I am words poured out of an open window in the summertime,

Evaporating hiss on the scalding sidewalk before you can say

Shh.

I am words falling like snow on a metropolis

Melting slush into the muddy street before you can say

No filter.