words

Once it used to be dancing around

            With them.

Oscilatting, holding hands and spinning      

            Around and around    

The velocity of creation, drunken dizziness.

Now I tippy toe around them,

Afraid they will scare off

Scared they are afraid of me, now.

                       

More often than not, I cannot find them.

Words hide. From me, they lie low.

A tall pink alabaster wall, impossible to climb.

Concealed behind their definitions.

            Refusing to get used, by me.

I miss turning around and seeing them there, just sitting, maybe with a cigarette or a lollypop, willing time away, waiting,      

                        For me.

We used to have fun together, words and I.

It was my sickness, it was my disease, it was my pain which drove them away.

It was my pain which eclipsed them, away.

Now, apprehensive that their self esteem will be subdued by my physicality,

            They prefer not to engage. With me