Somewhere out there is a book with forgotten words.

Somewhere hidden away in the inky black of night, lay some of those words. Just under soft gray clouds, dancing behind stars and planets.

Somewhere in the vast navy blue of ocean waves, turning over and over, a few phrases sink.

Somewhere along the prairie grass, there’s a thought or two hidden in the wind. It howls and still the words hide.

Somewhere deep in my chest cavity, under my rib cage, there are words etched into the thump and beat of my heart. Strangled and trapped; beating, raging, to escape.

Somehow, if you were to collect all these words and line them up... You’d know then. That I’m somewhere. That I’m somewhere else entirely. But you’ll never get to this somewhere.

And so my words live nowhere.