My Life as a Word Junkie
I search them out, put them
on lists, hoard them for myself
I secret them away on scraps of
paper and keep them in rows in
the depths of old journals.
I snatch them from the pages
of books and catch them as they
tumble from the mouths of friends
and strangers. I hum them to myself
even when there is no music. I seek
their meanings in a tattered dictionary
and find their relatives between the covers
of a thesaurus. They comfort me
in the middle of the night and sooth
me during storms. Each one is unique,
perfect as it is, and sometimes I string
them together into poems.
rhymeswithbug 