shhh!

they come to me
they just come to me
the words flash in front of my eyes
they are whispered into my ears
i don't know why they come to me, but they do
i love that they come, but i don't know why i am any different
the words come without being called
sometimes i don't want them to come
sometimes i cannot add them here for their magnitude is disturbing,
their honesty unnerving, their reality moving
sometimes i say them, sometimes i sing them
sometimes i just forget them
sometimes i'm in the car or in the middle of a book or talking to someone
i'm there but i'm all in here-in my brain-thinking of new words
when i'm there (here really) i think of something
and when i think of that something i think on it long and hard
and then the words come
sometimes i say those words over and over to myself
don't forget them, i say to myself
remember this line, i say to myself
why did i think of that, i question myself
sometimes i just type
sometimes i think it must be the sound of the keyboard
or the satisfaction of writing so much,
though of little essence
sometimes i think it is for the shock factor,
though i don't always find it shocking
sometimes i think it is vanity,
i think i write so well and should share with the world
sometimes it is the only way i feel i can let it all out
the words are like the stones that make up the dam
one day all the emotions just might steal out from behind
the dam walls and flood the dry land
after such a long drought.

sometimes i just write and don't
think about it.

sometimes.