Haven’t been able to sit down and cocoon my thoughts, so woven together, within a single chrysalis; all the while, wishing they could exist as something more than just the buzz of warning behind my brain.
Tickling my pursed lips, dancing upon my bitten tongue, these thoughts demand to transform themselves into words; harsh words, soft words, words that can only be spoken in the dark. But when the darkness eludes me, or if there just isn’t any time, and their demands become so great, I let them escape as whispers that only I can hear.
Or even better. That only I can read. Maybe one day, someday, I’ll let you read.
