Hole

It's small

This hole of my throat

So how can it feel like this

Endless spiraling chasm

This unaccountable void

Like something huge

Wound up inside me

I yearn to fill it with words

String them together

Somehow, in some way

A knotted cord on which to cling

But nothing seems to stick

And I'm just holding empty threads

My father taught me

That to stop the rope unraveling

You seal the end with flame

But I guess, in a way

That's the problem

Because there's nothing inside me

And nothing for which I burn