unlocking Jane
lately the words in my head
have been very loud. banging
sometimes without any rhythm.
sometimes to my pulse, my
lust. but i am all in my [head].
my words are constantly chattering.
often they awaken me to my Self
having a heated conversation with
Self answering my own questions
about colors, conundrums, and the
uselessness of sentence structure.
individually they are each only
words. tiny, miniscule capsules
of expressions that i re-use, re-
think, re-cycle, re-call, re-order,
into thoughts, breaths, and ideas.
compressed into columns and
constructs on notion bound pages.
they want to build new stories,
these words. they come at me.
all with hidden agendas, thoughts,
wants,and needs. they are tortured,
enunciated, played out, stacked up
but still trying most desperately to
conjugate a new sentence or to
complete a smile.
i use words. not legs to seduce. hard
bound shapely words like [anticipation].
to expose doors and open windows wide
to confess that this is what i want is my
words to make you feel my thoughts my
touch. i am more than black ink on white
paper.
i carry my words close as if i may
need them any moment, day ,hour,
minute, second, if we all fall down.
and i draw the delusional curtains and
sing private lullabies under the guise of
infinite and the definition of struggle.
i hope no one notices that. i am these
words. raw. chaotic. complex. kinetic.
superfluous. scribbled. even beautiful.
sometimes running on from sentences
and metaphors. slight in frame. distorted
in look they pour out undefined. unlabled.JANEisnotplain 5.15.10
pieced together from a series of sleepless nights
