words blur together
congealing
before eyes
brimming
with the sea
held back
by clustered
lashes
a stream spills down
pockmarked cheeks
lined with years
spilling onto
crisp paper
lips tremble
in silent
defeat
as a vice
grips the chest
caved in
from decades of
memories
a wet gaze looks up
at an apparition
from the past
but the present
commands
attention
to itself
it calls for
just a squiggle
on pristine pulp
but hands
paralyzed
with grief
cannot move
threats flew in
that stifling air
biting syllables
that rend
and tear
sign the damned papers
the hand moves
as unvoiced wails
rise up
from that
caved in chest
it is done
Nice poem.
Thank you for your comment, Pushmaotee.