Or It Doesn't

May 14th, 2026

It’s on the tip
of my tongue.
I keep shaving lines
down to the nerve.

It’s on the tip
of my tongue.
I want one truth
that does not turn.

It’s on the tip
of my tongue.
I pace until thought
gives way to breath.

It breaks from the tip
of my tongue. 
Safe, it is dead. 
Alive, it is gone.

I paid with every word
I've wrung. 
It lives without me now.
Or it doesn't.

I'm done. 

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or