at my age words now fail me
At my age
words now fail me—
they limp out of my mouth
like old dogs
that once chased fire
and now only wait
for a warm place
on the floor.
I used to spit lines
that cracked open the night,
but the years sandpapered
my tongue,
left me with a quieter truth—
nothing stays,
not love,
not hate,
not even the furnace
of a younger man’s struggle.
Still,
I scratch at the page,
because silence
is a heavier enemy,
and even a broken voice
is better
than no voice at all.
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