A head empty
the thoughts all laying down
tucked under covers
scared to enter the space
anticipating cold, cruel air

I cannot tell you secrets
or the rough drafts in the back of my throat
if anything makes it out 
there will be challenge,
disbelief,
indifference.

Pouring out to a burning desert
what’s on my chest
introduces itself to mirages
then evaporates instantly

the marks on my soul
make their way to the stage
performing to the empty auditorium

If ears could hear, 
if mouths could talk,
imagine what they’d say.