I’m drowning in my own words,

Ink bubbling up from my lungs

Like a well of indecision

Seeping out,

Dribbling down my chin.

I cough

And spray the walls with paragraphs–

Jumbled sentences,

Speckled like broken constellations

Trying to map out a way home.

I connect the dots with my tongue,

Trying to get a taste–

A reminder of how I feel,

But I cannot reach them…

Not even on my toes.

My eyes are drooping,

Fingers stained with broken promises

Too plenty;

I count the spots

And hope to drift away.

I count the lines

And write my life away.