First pink
then blue
Then green
Pages ripped monthly
To mark time
I set fire to each
As I burn through the hours.
I have this compulsion
to vomit word salad
over the screen
on the backs of envelopes
On coffee-ringed napkins
Scraps of paper
scrawled in chicken scratch
Purging my hands over the page.
It’s that bad, she tells me
Sucking on a straw and chewing her bottom lip
I can’t let it out or I’ll die
I tell her she’ll die if she doesn’t breathe
They’re just words, what’s the worst thing that’ll happen?
(They’ll be read, she sighs.)
There’s a demon in my pocket
A little devil driving me to madness
At every turn
Dripping in Black, Blue
Red, Charcoal,
Whatever it can grasp
in its naughty little claws
Forcing the frenzy forward.
