Sunday, August 11, 2013

Words.

Someday, I'll stop writing.
 I'll stop feeling.
I'll stop giving physical form to my emotions.
I'll let go of everything that matters.
I'll stop.
I'll turn into a fragmented girl.
I'll stop writing, but until then,
 I'll let my words describe my sadness and give beauty to my misery.
I'll let words be the most powerful thing in my life.
I'll let words ensure that there is excitement in my life, and not infinite security.
I'll let words be the thing that destroy me in the end, but the things I love the most.
I'll let my words be poetic and prettily written.
I'll let words be my drug, the thing that helps me get through each day's misery but will kill me in the end.
 I'll let words intoxicate me.
I'll let the words speak to me.
I'll let words have the supreme position in my life.
I'll let words flow just like my tears rolled down my cheeks; making the sound of water gushing into an empty glass. Pitter-patter.
I'll let words fill the void in my cracked soul.
I'll let words comfort me when I'm broken, defeated and beaten.
I'll let words numb the intensity of pain I'm forced to bear; as numb as a fossil.
I'll let words soothe my tornado-like mind.
I'll let words be the thing that save me in the end, save me from themselves.
I'll let words be the medium of love, sorrow and pain in my life.

Until I stop writing, I'll write, even though I'll never be able to write something even close to what I want to, I'll write. I'll write for the mere satisfaction it gives me. I'll write for the sorrow, for the joy. I'll write because it makes me feel alive. I'll write because words let me cling on to them. I'll write...


“I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still” 
-Sylvia. 

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