there are words here |
too many to be counted |
battering against my stomach |
and catching in my throat, |
assailing against my heart |
and faltering |
on the tip of my tongue, |
but if these words were to well up there |
in the corner of my eyes |
and you looked upon them |
as one of those words |
trickled across my cheek |
would it speak to you? |
there are words here |
too many to be counted |
battering my stomach |
catching in my throat |
assailing my heart |
and stuck |
on the tip of my tongue |
but if these words well up there |
in the corner of my eyes |
and you looked upon them |
as one of those words |
trickled across my cheek |
would it speak to you? |