words, locked inside
I try to shake them loose
like a child with a rattle

the stupid little ball is
stuck, like gum on the
bottom of your shoe

so I drag it across the surface
like a polar bear does its prey
yet all I see are ghostly images

I run it across my tongue
thinking that I can coax it
to come to life

those damn ghosts still
haunt me, taunting me
with the echos of my thoughts

I grab my lighter
thinking that I can torture it
force it to my will

and yet it still resists me
and now those ghosts
are laughing at my efforts

so I give in, tossing the object
of my frustration over my shoulder
and head for the keyboard

Who’s laughing now?