Sometimes, it’s like that when the worlds inside you die out—
you becoming your own marvellous undoing
a strange collection of wishes and strong desire for slumbers
taking your weakened heart away into the ether
releasing you from the choice to sigh or to sing out your woes
And somewhere in the first fall of night
you take to the chains instead of the flight
because by times words hold no meaning at all
and as fast as you grasp, you fall along with them
losing each little truth, each little turn in the rhythm
Sometimes, it’s like that when the words inside you die out—
so be free of the need to bleed the nothingness out…
Wait, oh so patient soul, on the edge of this bridge
silently your voice will set you free…
Carrie Gilbert 2016
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