Sometimes I Forget To Think
My mouth forgets the speech it has learnt
and even my pen does not remember
how to write poetry
or anything at all.
I just sit
why I ever left you, why I ever
thought I would be enough for me and
whether I’d ever be able to have you all over again.
Today is one of those days.
Beyond rugged rock and cutting crevices,
There is nothing.
Nothingness that echoes only the silent screams
of unsuspecting riders of big machine wings,
victims of suicide rage.
They’re all dead now.
But they’re saying they weren’t ready.
There’s loans to pay. Children to love.