Flat

My fingers are full to bursting,

I tell you.

They ache with the words they can’t express.

They hold rhymes,

Metaphors,

Sights,

And sounds.

But my brain, it just won’t talk.

I want to describe for you

The feeling of a fluorescent light.

The heat,

The blistering,

The burning.

I want to tell you

How it feels to have my molecules float away.

It would be nice, don’t you think,

If I could explain

The serenity of the water in the pool.

I beg you, neurons,

Speak.

Let me type.

Give me words.

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