Words in
My brain
Are crying
Out of me.
They say
It’s time
For them
To be
Birthed
Out from
My Mental
Holes &
Into the
—World.
—-
Words
Have no
Need for
Sucking
Their
Thumbs
To self-
Soothe.
They
Are the
Food &
The Shit,
& We—-Are
The Worms.
I spew all these words at you, releasing them from bonking around up in my noggin causing a ruckus.
