afternoon poem.

my words are full of holes i did not know i was digging
my sentences sliced in half by invisible walls of silent doubt
none of what i say makes full sense anymore
because i have not made full sense in so long
it seems
the last
time my words felt as full and whole
were when i was drinking alphabet soup in my youth
and letters that otherwise meant nothing
nourished me with their innocence
my hollow fraudulence
my hollow words
make even less sense
than the chalkboard words whose sounds i memorised happily
cat park banana balloon
an ocean of words swimming in meaning and mystery
drown out my filthy tub
of long sentences
that now sound
more like questions


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