You Go Where The Words Are

and if the words
are on a burning bridge
you cover yourself in ash

and if the words
find a zero at the bone
you rub them back into your blood

and if the words
are in your lover’s hands
you take them into your mouth

and if the words
come silently or not at all
you try to believe in their mercy

and if the words
are each one just as broken
you rebuild yourself in offhand moments

and if the words
should ever lose their balance
you make your way back falling upwards

and if the words
make their way back and back again
you listen for hints of higher meanings

and if the words
are scattered in the labyrinth
you tell stories about the minotaur

and if the words
cut you open with their edges
you can let yourself say amen

and if the words
ache like lost faith inside you
you can be your own sacrament

and if the words
burn within you like an aftermath
you make everything else a beginning

and if the words
got caught in your throat as a child
you cough up brimstone and fire

and if the words
scream at you while you sleep
you sing them when you wake

Noah Grey

Noah Grey, 30, San Antonio, Texas, single, gay, geek, survivor, consultant, photographer, writer, webdesigner, musician, poet, programmer, illustrator, oddball, mostly harmless.