vomited and swallowed
and stuck in my throat-
the words desire
to whisper
and shout
and murmur
and sing-
to do something
more
than nothing
but they do not flow-
instead they stick
clinging to my insides
like tar
while i remember freedom-
natural and wild and
uncaged-
so i try-
spitting and sputtering
about nothing
and the words
they don't flow
because in my quiet
i've learned to appreciate gray.
