Poem: If I didn't sing

If I didn’t sing / On leaving my guitar at home, and promptly regretting it
Janice Lee

If I didn’t sing
I’d forget to
what with this
stale air
suffocating me.

If I didn’t sing
my chest would
bleed –
split by pressure:
love, searching for
an exit strategy.

If I didn’t sing
my hands would go
listless, with nothing to
grasp, nothing to

To sing:
to release the
melody from my
tongue, from my
fingers, from these

If I didn’t sing
I’d lose my voice,
what with silence
being so easy,
what with silence
a default setting.