James Friedman |
These writings
Grow and Expand
They soak in my thoughts like sponges
And bloom
Taking up all the space in my head
To the point where sometimes I have no idea what I’m saying
Or what I’m seeing
And all I know
Is that somewhere inside me
I am somewhere else
I am afraid of this infinite
It scares me like few things do
I don’t know where I end and begin
I can’t find the boundary of my thoughts
They slip into each other
Flowing from streams to form rivers
Snowballing into oceans
And what starts as a page
Becomes more than me
More than my mind alone
More than my heart could know
These writings
I wonder what was there
What precursor first beheld their form?
What forerunner was replaced by the ink that seems to run red no matter the pen
What spirit on paper remains locked inside my head
Will those bygones forever escape my treading feet that fall in stride to meet nostalgia
Or will they change their pace in time to dance forwards and back across my linear consciousness within this stream on earth
A wake away from birth before my answer is refunded
A vow lays rescinded amongst cinders in the air
The pen remains
When all else has burned away
When will I see them again?
All I see now are words
Alike memories, telling me
Cannot be erased
Cannot be replaced
And all I see now are words