Sometimes
I don’t know
what to write
seems like
words have curled
away
in fright
because
in order to be
on the page
they must fight
testing which has
the might.

Sometimes
it’s a draw
unexpressed wounds
unhealed
open and raw
reminders of life’s
see saw,

Or
it can be a lose
lose
both walking away
saddened and bruised
sitting on the corner
and drinking some booze.

And sometimes
words make the cut
but perhaps
its better if they
refuse
avoid feeling used.