Words, take back meaning.
Rise to my gaping page, that still refuses to elaborate.
Stop dreaming in the ground with the elders,
the ants who collaborate but canít understand.
Those who put you down there to rest,
found half the heart in a non-artistís chest
to be sufficient;
A ten-year-oldís budding dimensions
proficient to living intently,
but I donít.
Nor will I banish you to pledge myself dumb
to the expanding horizons, no matter how fair,
Because beauty is not if pleasing
cannot compare to it.
I do not exist, except for where you say I did and do,
or survive to create truth.
Because I wonít; I wonít.
Iíll live to shake you from the dust each morning.
If you refuse to keep all eyes open on your own,
Iíll rouse you with ice water,
and drag you broken and screaming home
will be a family lost for words
Who can no longer express how the silence hurts.