poem thing

i'm struggling to understand my own existence
in the poem, where there is no poem

a wall there, pressing my face against it
to feel the cold move from metal into skin,

teeth become magnatized to what should be said
in the poem, where there is no poem

and questions are just words i don't understand
because my mouth parts wont stop talking--

things fall from things thinging, and scared me
in the poem, where there is no poem

then lightning, then thunder
wind, wind, and the storm forming

thoughts on the night when there is no storm
in the poem, where there is no poem