words are not birds

or bridges

When the distance between us gets blurry,
and words are not birds or bridges,
and sound isn’t intrusion
no shatters, no bangs, no clatter
I will murmur,
hoping my breathless voice hums your way.

I will sing,
hoping it will vibrate with your natural frequency.

My hands dip into my glottis,
morphing sound from tremors and troubles.

I will leave the consonants
and hold my vowels like stones,
hoping they will mutate.

And words aren’t birds or bridges,
I will hug my silence.

---

I wrote this poem thinking about the title ‘I’ll Hug My Silence.’

It’s short and visceral. I’m loving poetry again . It’s so amazingly beautiful.

I just heard the creaks of rats again, and I’m so frustrated… bye.”