deepundergroundpoetry.com
Inner Maelstrom
They say to sit with your feelings,
leave space to feel them.
But what if
there’s no space big enough?
I’ll sit with them,
but they won’t sit with me.
They dash in--
then back out to sea.
They swell, and screech.
A swirling maelstrom
even in
the calmest waters.
When I come to ask,
what wounds me so?
A silence….
scratches in my throat.
Though their language
is one I’ve tried to learn,
their voices
talk (or scream) out of turn.
A codex not taught
in our strangled schools;
I’m lost
and I don’t know the rules.
leave space to feel them.
But what if
there’s no space big enough?
I’ll sit with them,
but they won’t sit with me.
They dash in--
then back out to sea.
They swell, and screech.
A swirling maelstrom
even in
the calmest waters.
When I come to ask,
what wounds me so?
A silence….
scratches in my throat.
Though their language
is one I’ve tried to learn,
their voices
talk (or scream) out of turn.
A codex not taught
in our strangled schools;
I’m lost
and I don’t know the rules.
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