Member-only story
If I write it, they will read — in between these excerpts and pieces and pages of life and me
I wonder if they know, how many words get stuck in my throat, how I’m forced to catch my breath — every time these rogue, spilled words escape to sink or swim like ink drops in an endless paper ocean
tonight, just before I close my eyes — I’ll remove the pounds and dollars from my sight, in search of Utopia, I will stretch out into the open night,
I’ll swallow the Moon so I can dream about the taste of freedom and light
as I surrender to my slumber, I’ll listen closely to the silence
to try and hear a familiar library of lullabies, as my heartbeats crash like wild waves against my rib cage and drown me in peace and sleep
