To Free Up Some Space

I never write anymore. I think a thought

And open my camera.

I talk into it until it says my

Storage is full

And I just talk to myself then

Stopping to write

And craft a sentence

To sound intriguing and to slip

Off the tongue 

To be satisfying

Yeah I don’t do that so much.

I want to. Words tumble about

In my head and on my lips

All day

All night

I’m thinking of how

I’m thinking of why

But that’s it. In my head they stay,

Barred behind my eyes. Their only hope?

To be released by my hands

Onto pen, onto paper

Onto keys onto documents

Typed out, extracted, letter by letter

Through my veins and over my skin.

To free up some space.

- Ellen Victoria