Sometimes I wonder do I write because I like to,
Or because I have to?
Is it an uncontrollable urge that these words are just pulled out of me,
Or do I really get some kind of twisted enjoyment out of scrabbling around inside my head
Seeking a single word to make the sentence perfect
Carefully crafting and sculpting
Subtle images to draw a reader in
And silently expressing those things I can’t say out loud
Because I can’t speak
The words
They escape my tongue
And yet somehow they are captured by my pen
Its not easy
A singular word can
Make all the difference
Sometimes I have these thoughts
These feelings
These ideals
They swim around in my head as if in a kind of fog
And for some reason when I set my pen to the paper
The fog lifts a bit
But I don’t always write what I find beneath the fog
How can I?
A person can express themselves in words,
Yet why is it that sometimes I’m afraid of what my words mean?
I write them without knowing what they mean
Then I read them
And find they all say the same thing
They are my call for help
They are my silent screams
My endless wails for freedom
For escape from a life of fear
Fear of happiness
Fear of loss
Fear of the unknown
Fear of losing control over my life
Fear of giving up
And fear of fear
And not just that normal feeling of fear
But that fear where you know you are scared and you try to run away
To escape
But only manage to realize you’re more afraid than before
You were afraid
You didn’t take that risk that could have made all the difference
And you’re slowly losing control of your life
You’re drowning
You’re slipping
You scream
You cry out
But you have no voice
Its silenced by the fear in your throat
And you now know it’s over
You let the fear catch you
You did the safe thing
The comfortable thing
And you have lost it all and you know
Its over
Done
All your dreams are finished
You can never dream them again because you were afraid
Your attempt to escape fear has set your destiny in stone
Stone
that’s what fear really is
Its inevitable
I know it
I write for escape
For relief
For help
Why can’t anyone in this world stop the fear?
Please someone save me!!
3 comments:
You write because it is part of who you are, just as it is part of who I am. <3 I love you.
Yeah, the ink in my veins is more poignant than blood.
On my facebook it says "My veins run with ink" or something like that. =P
Post a Comment