If i might, if i could, just run away
and take flight, i would pack up all these
silly nonsense sentences and fill up
suitcases of them,
brimming with words, unspoken half-truths
and utter falsehoods, complete lies.
If i might, i would run far away, from myself,
worse of all, i would try to escape
all the thought-tinkering, the jingle-jangle, the fragmented
sentences, the broken bits of poems, the lost semi-colon.
if i might, if i could just run away, to become,
someone else for a day,
someone easier, someone who did not scrawl
her every thought onto a wall.
Somebody new, who did not do,
the things i do…but i can’t
its complicated, and i am afraid i am
unable to change,
i scribble, scrawabble, whatever, i think,
without any advanced planning on my part
to edit out, to tear/ to cut
out my bleeding gushing heart.