I Steal Words-Prose Poetry

-YAY FOR PROSE-Y POETRY!-

I collect words. I keep them in my pockets, smashed against my textbooks, in little golden cages, stuck to the bottom of my muddy boots. I drape them around trees and put them in glass bottles. I pick them up along the beach and steal them from people's mouths. I pluck them out of the wind and sweep them into dustpans. I sleep with words crumpled inside my hands and pressed against my closed eyelids. I step on words and hear them crackle satisfyingly beneath my feet. I throw them against walls and suck their meaning dry. I bake and broil them, candy and pickle them. I ramble and rant, toying at words with catlike menace. 

I devour words,smothering them in half formed ideas with a side of confusion. I bath them in delusions and scrub them till they glow. I keep them on leashes and drag them on long walks, pulling them through the dirt and mud of my mind. When they howl, I scold them and prod them with pens and pencils. I iron out their wrinkles for hours and hang them out to dry on rainy days. I cradle them till they fall asleep and steal their secrets one by one. I analyze and hypothesize about them, muttering like a mad scientist about their inner cores. I put them under microscope and strip them bare. I paint them bizarre colors and drop them in house paint. I rub them across my skin and absorb them in. I collect words

But when I need them most...

I can never find a single one

But then again....

maybe they find me