Words Poem by Jordan McLaren

I am mute -
dumb, my mouth is gone,
my face a wall,
my tongue a caged and crippled beast.
It is impotent, impatient:
the tendon from my swollen heart
is severed by its thumping.
My hands, my aching body
are suffocated, smothered
by the Atlantic's savage waters.

My thirsty will would have me speak -
or sing, a symphony of eager passions,
songbirds freed on a cloudless sky,
bursting from the sea,
beaks gaping gloriously
with the joys of flight;
and as they beat their wings
they would soar, shed their dampness
and revel in their freedom to be dry.

But will cannot drink.
I am soaked, drowned,
still gasping at the sea
with laboured, dying lungs.