The Sense of Nonsense

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I don't breathe.
I choke on my own words.
I gasp for breath,
Waiting for the chance to breathe my words in again.
I stumble on the vowels,
And stutter on the adjectives.
I wait for the chance
For my words to become needed.
They wait in the corners and crevices
The cracks and the canyons
Of my mind,
Waiting to be heard and accepted.
The words of nothing and
The sense of nonsense
Are the words that keep me
Alive.





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