Overfilled

from Out With Lanterns, a daily poetry practice

I open my mouth. Out spills
books, mugs, sneakers, 
piles of laundry, tangled socks 
that walk away on their own.
I try to rest my ears, 
go someplace quiet, but 
noise fills in: sirens, mowers,
cars, ringing, ringing. 
Oh my god the ringing. 
My father is nearly deaf now–
I know my time will come too. 
Everything feels too full–
my mouth, my ears, 
my eyes that see too much–
screen, scroll, screen. Click
to See Sensitive Content.
I want to go to the woods,
Walden my way to empty–
unfill all the spaces
until I can finally see
what is actually here.

Photo by Liana S on Unsplash