2022-02-22T10:50:28-08:00November 20th, 2011|Musings on life|

An opus of your thoughts

You assign no accountability
to your thoughts
as though their invisibility
excuses them,
lets them slip away
in the dark.

But what of the imprint of their stomping,
the ringing in your ears?

Can’t you see your furrowed brow
is one of them,
pinching you
from inside your skull.

Your body is not a shell
but a scribe,
a devoted secretary who records
your quiet scroll of inner chatter,
an opus of your thoughts.

So loyal,
your limbs read your library
of hopes and doubts
like a bestseller.

Your thoughts don’t melt,
they are etched
into the lining
of your being.

Forgive the bitter ones,
the livid
the suspicious
the uptight,
but don’t invite them back.

Fill your skin
with new words.

Write your body
a new ending,
a story
of joy.

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