The words get away from me

Sometimes

Like tricky little bandits

Dodging meter

Ducking rhyme

 

They leave me silently, days

And nights

A bumbling ballerina

Slipping and sliding

In my pink tights

 

Without them, I have to stutter

And squeak

Where I’m going, not knowing

I’m lost

That’s why I’m so meek

 

The words are all I have-

It’s true

Inconsistent little rogues

They shatter, then,

Form once more anew

 

All my words are alive, they are

Different-toned

When it’s only them and me

They can make me lonely, see

But I’m never quite alone

 

The words, they make my works complete

Each time

On paper where I scribe my voice

They hold a pace, speed

And shape each and every line

 

I write to keep away

The hurt

The sudden shocks of sadness

The never-ending dissonance that comes

Without the words