Pulling the Words

Pulling the words off of my lips

Bleeding onto the white of the page

Sometimes the mind strains

Other times it flows freely

The colors they bring don’t matter

As others will read it differently

Through their shaded lenses

My life congeals into pieces of phrases

My soul is constrained into things I say

What does it matter, what they mean

When words fail to capture my imagination

But they work, in a fragmented way

As limited colors in pencils and crayons

Maybe if I melt the wax

I can come up with words of my own.


© 2018 Valerie Hathaway

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