Brain Problems Dawg
an original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell
I hate that I have my
brain. You know?
And
I hate that all these
words get caught in my
throat.
And
I hate that I have to
choke them down
so
I can hold back all the
tears. My eyes wish to
betray me
and
spill like the ink of the
poems I’ll never write
on the pages I’ll never
send.


Whisper to the void it might whisper back