it's palpable, moldable... hell, maybe edible.
but if I seem to be on the search for it,
can you take the bits i have,
and use it to spread my thoughts
like love that can't be contained?
i was blindsided by fear when i was a child
and i haven't taken kindly to words
even now, my thoughts linger
on the edge of my tongue,
pondering, thinking,
"do i jump? do i want
to become sound?"
the temptation to take the leap
lingers until it starts to fret,
then fret turns to fleet
until process repeats itself again
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