A reflective poem of attempting, word, and spills, exploring change, memory and inner weather.
January 24, 2004Early Notebooks
This is me, attempting to say nothing,
but every word spills, tumbling, rushing.
I bite my tongue, but it won’t stay still—
the silence I seek is a void to fill.
I try to hush, to swallow the sound,
but thoughts escape, circling around.
To say nothing at all is a game I can’t win,
for every attempt only lets words in.
Even when I pause, my mind won’t rest,
sentences linger, uninvited guests.
This is me, failing to keep quiet,
my thoughts a cacophony, a riot.
Trying to be mute is like holding my breath,
the silence turns restless, a life unto death.
So here I am, saying nothing yet more,
a paradox I can’t seem to ignore.
I tried to say nothing, but let’s be real—
even in silence, my thoughts start to spill.
For words are a river that can’t be contained,
and trying to stop them is utterly in vain.
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