stone

what does one say,
when there is nothing to say
when the expressions well up on the inside,
but don't even have enough strength to make it out of parted lips
when one is simply too tired to live
when silence will not suffice,
but the words wont either
when angers are dull axes
hacking away at the inside of a mind
concussing blows
that will neither cease pounding away at that which holds them,
nor slice their home open and make their way out
free

these lines on my face
my soul's impotent rebellion

late

it is done
the beginning
has begun
and so we have ended
these juxtapositions
trite
there will be more
words
for now
this will suffice
i'm not well
but there is too late
and it will be
soon