Say What You Will
i fear i’ve got nothing left to say —
nothing to boast, nothing to scream,
little to recommend me, little to condemn me,
all these things to derail me and sink me down low.
i feel as if the words have dried up,
and no one will ever hear me speak again —
and by this point i wonder, “who cares?”
because so many have left me already.
i’m worried i’m dried up before my time —
an unfinished song with drab lyrics,
a dance uninspired in its trappings,
a story better left untold.
i choke on my own thoughts
that taste so bland on my tongue,
and i’m left wondering if anyone even cares
if i ever open my mouth to speak aloud again.
and even the ones who once hung on my words
have fallen silent in the back of the room
as if they’re embarrassed, ashamed,
to see my untimely fall from grace.
if i never pen a word again in this life —
who will even lift an eyebrow
or raise a voice in protest
to say i made a mistake?
what am i worth without the ideas,
what am i worth without the colors,
what am i worth without the schemes —
oh, tell me, and make me believe.
say what you will, yes, say what you will —
but this world is lifeless without the words
to sustain me and ground me and make me full
when nothing else can ever do me justice.
Do you like poetry with existential musings? Then you may enjoy some of my other poems, linked in the lists below: they range from heartbroken soliloquoys to useless meanderings, all born from a creative soul cracked apart to seep out into the open air. Too much? Perhaps.