april post-a-poem {6}

my words precede me
deceive me
perceive me
releive me
in a way that no one else's can.

they fly from my fingers
like barn swallows
fluttering and flickering
at the edge of an unfinished thought.

i can't always gather them in
they fly in a flock
they spriral and swoop
and when i try to contain them
they peck at my brain
begging to be let back out to play.

i release them
in hopes
they will find their way back to me.