Expressions
The push and pull makes no sense
The words are not real, just pretense.
When I Sit to write,
Words, they spite.
Like the hardened salt
that have lost their natural flow.
Unused and ignored, they stick together,
To seek solace, perhaps
from one grain to another.
They lose their moist
and refuse to let go.
Harder they become, as Time ignores.
Words have, it seems, a similar fate.
Refused an out, they forget their nature, innate.
Rendering a deep thirst, just as salt
Yearning for a drop of water.
I want the water to quench my thirst and
fill me up and breach the brim.
Taking the salted thoughts with it.
Melting and merging one and all.
Water, the expression and Me, the salt doll.
Comments