Tower of Babel

 

(in the style of Jason Reynolds)

... and I’m sitting here wondering why

meaning gets jumbled even

when the words are the same, 

and why

shadows 

are an absence of light, 

or is it an excess of darkness,

and why

I open my mouth to speak 

but I am the Tower of Babel 

built on a pyre of passion that

reaches too far, scattering 

all over the face 

without hiding 

because

my eyes are too wide

to stay closed

like my mouth 

gathering words 

that stain my lips 

and fall on deaf ears...