Sometimes I swallow back
an ocean of words
to let only a trickle spill out.
They fall in drips
instead of torrents
and I choke on what I don’t say.
Perhaps because they are
more cruel than I know is right,
but more often,
perhaps because they are
less clever than I know I’d like.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
