chronicles of an expanding mind
the mute doesn’t germinate words
on the tip of his tongue
instead they’re at the tip of his fingers
and so he sits there
dumbfounded & motionless
the screams though
they come in loud & clear
on the personal unconscious level
at times loud enough
to shake him to the core
awakening him from a deep deep sleep
to dream is to scream
or so says the mute
staring at his fingertips
channeling the collective unconscious
writing down each experience
once reawakening
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
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