Locked in thoughts that swim
Round and round my head
Tiny shivers of dancing
Choking on sobs
Locked behind brimming eyes
Won’t spill over
Grasping at insubstantial light
Flickering, wavering in the spill of
Icy fingers reaching for
Sometimes, words just tumble out of my head and I can’t help but open up a word document at work and spill them onto the screen. I felt better once they were out, which leads me to believe that I need to have this outlet and the more I deny it, the more dark it becomes.
Or maybe there is no rhyme or reason to it and sometimes there are just dark words in a dark space that need an outlet.