it has been a few years since 
i have had tears, and a poem for diner 

tonight i find i am ten years old, again
standing meekly at a fridge door left wide open
to the hot steam of salty water 
racing down my cheeks,
melting the light frost away 

i am ten years old, again
with a world too big, words too heavy 
to continue carrying around 

at the dinner table, i pull my knees deep into my chest
growing smaller- and smaller 
i push away my dinner plate to make room 
for a notebook, exchange fork for pen 
suddenly too full for one more stanza,
yet craving something more sustaining

tonight, that funny taste resurfaces 
clinging to the back of my tongue 
i cannot swallow the lump, long built up
at the base of my throat

tonight, my words all taste wrong 
the soup smells off 
my spoon morphs back to pen, plate to paper 
i grow smaller again, filling quickly
on limerick and line.