I wish my words
weren’t whispers
and instead
loud screams
selling love
not loss.
But they are only
gray raindrops,
fat with fancy tea cups
filled with sad.
These echoes
scratched into
zeroes and ones
only sigh out
in fast eyes
and bring pain
to more pain
and I want them
to shine
like misty starlight
inside white-tipped waves
but they merely sink
in sticky mires,
sucked down
by quicksand.
They are
as confused
as swallows
in snow
and as lost
as I am
on this path
to stuck.

6 thoughts on “Stuck

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