Perfectly Sylablled Sonnets

If I could find the words

All the perfect syllabled sonnets

To describe the hurricane that rages

Beneath the broken ribcage of mine

I’d spew them out like sparrows flocking.

I don’t want to keep it inside me.

I want to get rid of all the things that never mattered much to you

And mattered all too much to me.

I want to get rid of dog ear pages of the story I told myself.

Get rid of the carefully documented and cataloged moments in my mind.

But I can’t.

My tongue is too weak to spit them out

And my mind too feeble to find them anyways.

And you don’t deserve that either.

But if I could

If I simply could

I would spit all of this out

With one simple motion.