I feel your words
The angst of youth crossing every T
The deepest questions dotting the I’s
I once raged on the page as you do
Now I envy you
It’s not that the words have abounded me
They can flow like water at times
Creating new rivers of discourse
Through the landscape of life
But I find it harder to get the words to bleed
To cut through the skin
To pump through my aorta
But your words fill the poem with emotion
Needle to vain
Band-aid needed after reading
Two cups of orange juice just to have enough
Energy to get off the page
Maybe I have run out of blood
Or have become too afraid
Filled with fear and age
To let my heart be seen by the world
Because I’ve learned that I might speak truth
But the reader always has their own connotation
And too many times they don’t match
