7-13-16 I can’t speak

 •I can't speak•

I never know if I'm saying these words right. Like someone is going to point fingers and use me as a swear word. I'm riding this bike to nowhere. Instead of walking I want to feel my heart leave this soiled ground. Why is the water always bluer somewhere other then where I'm submerged? I'm drowning and my voice is muffled. The last bubble pops on the surface and water is crashing into my lungs. Everything sounds like a poem. These parables drawn into the mud untouched by clean hand. I'm looking at life through water bobbing and shaking through my finger tips. Bugs still bite my ankles and gravel makes my feet tough and curved. Fire no longer burns my arms. Ice no longer eases the ache. Why can I never say anything right? Letters choke me, sentences cover my mouth. Spit it out. I can't pull my hand away. The world no longer looks green and blue. The water is always too cold. Hunching over my own shadow. My figure skinny and weak. No details. I'm throwing words at the walls but end up on the ground. I've given up on speaking. Actions speak louder then words

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