The words have ceased from flowing
Buried alive somewhere in me
I can feel them, I can hear them
Even taste their sweet form
But they aren’t as real as they used to be.

My wastebasket if full of crumpled paper
Notepad nothing but scribbled lines
My fingers have become
Strangers to words and typing.

I want to put my finger
At the back of my throat
And hope to vomit
All the words that’s in me
Stuck. Constipated. Dead.

My chest is so full of something
I don’t know what it is
Can’t figure out how to get rid of it
My ribs are giving way and ready to explode.

It’s the pill, it’s the pill, it’s the pill!
I need it to keep me sane
But it’s so messing me up
It’s killing my brain and my imagination
It has stolen my greatest healer.

I am short of breath.
It’s dark in here.
I can smell the damp earth
I am buried. Alive.

04/28/2003

Posted on 04/28/2003
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