all at once, without warning, everything
seemed to happen. my words reach my throat,
except that they are not words
but a combination of breakfast and lunch
begging to be let out.
my mouth is sour, a lemon of a bad experience
thrust upon it.
Staccato bursts of inspiration.
all at once, without warning, everything
seemed to happen. my words reach my throat,
except that they are not words
but a combination of breakfast and lunch
begging to be let out.
my mouth is sour, a lemon of a bad experience
thrust upon it.