Willful Words, Wait

Tell,

Let the words spill from your lips

As you stumble over

Sibilant syllables,

Quirky and

Singular (Just like you, and like

Everybody else.)

 

Wilting as they age

Shrinking into themselves as they are

Looked at less and less,

No longer picked up off the shelves.

Lime green bowlers gather dust

As feathered boas linger longingly

On clothes racks behind large wardrobes

And your beloved storybooks

Once dragged along to every place

They weren’t allowed to be

(Like in the bath tub, before you got caught that one time and dropped the book in nervousness, into the simmering, shiny surfaced water).

 

Ragged around the edges,

Their narratives no longer voiced

Aloud each night

Their self-contained murmurs

Slowly decreasing as they stop conversing

With curious minds.

 

So tell,

Speak the stories into the air,

Let your tongue tangle through terrifyingly long sentences

And

Let the books breathe

A sigh of relief

At last

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2 thoughts on “Willful Words, Wait

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