chiselstone
the writer
I stand frozen, my body wooden
in my mouth, the taste of lead and ashes
and though I speak, I make no sound
but my words, they stain the pages
and every word, scraped from my tongue
all black from years kept unspoken
but still I struggle to say it all
though I choke and my body lies broken
and when I’m done and my tale is told
would you know my hopes and sacrifices?
when all you’ll ever come to see
are just stains upon the pages
the writer
I stand frozen, my body wooden
in my mouth, the taste of lead and ashes
and though I speak, I make no sound
but my words, they stain the pages
and every word, scraped from my tongue
all black from years kept unspoken
but still I struggle to say it all
though I choke and my body lies broken
and when I’m done and my tale is told
would you know my hopes and sacrifices?
when all you’ll ever come to see
are just stains upon the pages