Unidentifiable

I can't find very much - they are under stacks of paper, unseen, unidentifiable. I should be able to see it. I know I put them there but I think they're just buried under the mountain of work and words, passages of mispelled and unstructured essays. 

I won't see it - but when I do, it will probably be undecipherable and I probably won't even remember why I wrote it. I can't remember it now come to think of it. I just can't.

I hold it all really tightly together. The words, I mean - I hold them so tightly in my mind and squashed between the day's work that they can't breathe. They don't come out and when they do, they're just jumbled and unidentifiable scribbles on paper with black ink blotches on the side. I can't read them or see them properly. 

So I now need to find them, as they sit tucked away under some coffee-stained agreement (which I really need to find) and maybe reread it again and try to make sense of what it all means. But it might just be they are words lost and now I just need to build them up again.

It feels, however, that I've held them so tightly that they've been crushed, and completely unidentifiable.