heavy

i have given much more thought to it all
than my poems show
the words are short a syllable
i have not yet filled this up
with what spills out of me
arms like cups
the blood pours
but it is never enough
when it touches the air
it scares the truth away
in fear of fading too soon
there is still so much room
i have not moved through
the waterfalls long enough
to soak my heart dry
there are still handfuls of memories
to melt into the page

every day i am overloaded
with shoulders burdened
and burned from previous furnaces
still flashing their flames
and i try to escape
but it all stays here
trapped
outlasting
i cannot look past it,
my mind is its own master
but it still won't move fast enough
to get it all down
and make sense with sentences
there are man-made mountains
mounted by thick as brick thoughts
and all i want is for them to fall
crash and crawl out of my head
and onto this page instead
but what i possess is too heavy
to release
underneath the sight you see
lies a train tracing its tracks
back to yesterday
trying to take a little less
off its plate
i wait,
wasting my time
trying to find the reason why
i cannot unwind
without coming back to this very same spot
i guess
some thoughts aren't meant to think for themselvese