Sometimes, I’m verbal
The words rush
They press
They insist on getting out of my head
They keep me awake at night
Unless I shut them up
Turn them off with meds
Sometimes, though,
I’m simply not
Sometimes, I’m non-verbal
The words are not there
I do jigsaw puzzles
Watch TV
Play with numbers
Rather than words
When the words fly
They are raucous
Noisily filling my mind
Needing to get out
I need relief
So, I write
Then, I must get
The racing commentary
Out of my mind
Onto the screen or paper
In black and white
Where later I reshape them
Edit them into something coherent
Perhaps
Or, perhaps,
Sometimes, I leave them
In a jumbled mess
All over the page
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