To catch this breath and swallow hard on words

Would do you the world of good

I often try to slip away from thoughts I can't control

But my reluctant tongue is tricky

And catches me off guard.

The door left slightly open

Allows the light to spill in from other worlds

In which I speak these hushed ideas

That crush sublime ideal.

These easy times when sitting on my hands

Subdues the urge of running into walls

could melt into some great black hole

That curbs the push to think.