TexturesCom_FabricPatterns0085_M.jpg

Words

My words refuse to sit quietly in my brain.

They play with each other, constantly bantering, especially at night while they run back and forth across my pillow, held over my ears to quiet their volume.

Most days it is useless to ignore them. They rush out of me, down my arms, onto of my fingertips in search of a pen, then onto any willing or even, unwilling surface that  will allow their creative dance, their ramblings, their rants.  A virgin white computer screen, paper hiding in my desk drawer, a left over dinner napkin, a dusty dashboard.. all merely a plaything for my words.

My words.. they can get me to pull over on the side of the road to let them jump out, jump up and down, mocking the oncoming traffic-  just so they can have their say.

My words.. there’s no holding them back after a few shots of Jack in a bar that’s unfortunate enough to have an open mic that night. They will show off, shout out, stand on the table and ‘wow’ a few drunk people, especially if they are dirty that night. My dirty words, I try to keep those for the bedroom, but sometimes they just slip out..

My words..they get me into trouble and then they talk their way out of it.

They’ll make you smile, they’ll make you reflect, they’ll give you comfort,  they’ll teach you a thing or two…

They are powerful creatures, just looking out at this audience, I can see that they got you, you are hanging on each one of my words...