Janette Hoppe #45 Unwritten

there are words in these veins
unwritten poems
injected by trauma and pain
too much for paper to handle

there are words on this tongue
dissolved into nothing
absorbed into the blood stream
too much for ears to handle

there are words in this head
that circle around and around
manifesting,
tormenting me
until all that spews out is poetry

there are unwritten poems
in these veins
on this tongue
and in this head

one day
you will feel my words.