Through the crag of my throat
Cryptic blasphemies poor forth
Peeling words like a lemon
Puckering to their plastered strata
Choking on my silk fist
Will this be the year
that tragedy tames tongues?
Sticking to the roof of my mouth
Like white bread
Words won't come out
They bounce on the tip of my tongue
Some fall back
Sweinging from my vocal chords
When I was younger
Words would cut with ease
Push and pull
Dislodge the words
Regurgitate some bullshit
Gotta make them count
Burrough deep into my brain
Knaw at my very soul
Let loose that noose
That noose that tightens itself
Breaking phrases loose
They begin to emerge
Showing their tattered faces
No matter how obtuse
Starting to get that urge
to write.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem