This is the sixth installment of a ten part poetry/prose series I wrote a few months ago titled Hours. I wrote the series over the course of one night into the next morning as a project. Each individual part is titled according to the time at which I began writing the piece and makes for a kind of documentation of my thought process throughout the night. And after much editing, here it is.

2:00 AM

I think people find my speech laborious

They say I burden their ears with heavy-handed words

But I appreciate

The heavy-handed words

My own hands

Could never land

Such weighted blows

These words

Are more than just recognizable signs

My audio boxing-ring dances

Spitting punches through the air

Beating ear-drums

Maybe a heart or two

To match my own rhythmic inconsistencies

Of war

And peaceful personal dialogues

Scrutinizing monologues

Plucking out my own feathers

And struggling with these tethers

Of constraint

Or aid

They change each day

With even less rhyme and reason

Than what I say


Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

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