I stepped out onto poetry’s tightrope,
foot toeing unwritten imagery
that wordlessly exists in my mind’s eye.
I walked across, wobbling,
and made the mistake
of looking down.

Like Dumbo realizing his magic feather
had been claimed by the abyss of strangled sentences,
I plummeted to a roiling sea of my own jumbled words.
My fragmented creation 
tousled me, waves of hesitation
crashing into my chest.
The ghosts of figments who’ve never found a way to escape my psyche
claw at my skin,
their salty tears flooding my sinuses.

I thought I might drown in my restless hurricane,
but this poem is proof I can weather the storm.