6/18/2010

I started to write but I had to stop. The words were bleeding from me. I started to write and I had to stop; the words were screaming at me.

I started to write and the words were profound and honest to a flaw but I had to stop; the words were running from me.

I started to write and the rhythm was pounding but I had to stop because the pounding was driving me mad.

I started to write and I started to think and thinking is far too dangerous you see, so I stopped my writing and I put it away because the words were taking control.

I started to write, the words spoke the truth and the truth was far too painful to face so I put the paper facing the desk so the words would stop staring at me.

I started to write, In fact I nearly got through but the starting came to stopping and the stopping was so hard for me. 

I started to write what the words were demanding and the passion the words conveyed. I struggled to deal with the meaning of the words and the way the words were formed.

I started to write, the best words I had written and the words were starting to mock me. I argued and debated and the words became angry and I started to fear what my words might say.

I started to write.

I started to write words