Where are the words that fill my brain?
The words that lurk unformed, peeping out in blurry bits.
Words to pick apart the blanket of silence crushing down,
Isolating, defeating, smothering.
Words to lift me out of my island to myself,
Words to travel the vast empty space.
To cast out, to catch the hope,
to latch on to living souls.
The souls are sleeping, the words are afraid to wake them up.
The space is growing, swallowing letters, leaving vapors.
The silence is up to my ears now, distorting the distant sounds,
with cool lapping to and fro, the words floating away, a distant sailboat
as it disappears with the sun.
The Rabbit Hole 