Clouded Travels

November 27, 2007
By Cat Hinojosa, Indio, CA

if there were words i would make use.
Before me they dangle, tied in the noose.
i cannot utter nor fathom the descriptive ones.
the pressure weighs down in tons.
perhaps there are none that exist?
i shiver and tighten my fist.
i feel so lost, entirely troubled.
found the path only to have fumbled.
squirming thoughts, they loop.
bubbling up, melting like soup.
caught on a web, here i stick.
this feeling is cold, pale, and sick.
exhale a sort of sigh unintentionally.
there is nothing that i see.
i guess i can not guess.
my fault is my clumsiness.
in a burst it explores.
opening each and all the doors.
no such thing as mistakes.
colors that fill in the blanks.
still, i do not know a word.
sound me something i heard.
enclosed in the oxygen, they float.
scribble it down on a note?
my gaze is immobile.
a stare that stretches over a mile.
i never feel doubt.
no way out.

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