Published January 4, 2012
Unspoken words are the poison that stills my blood and decays my bones. Like detached spider legs: still twitching after their painful demise.
These unspoken words stayed at the tip of my tongue, where they patiently waited. Anticipating the moment they could crawl to my fingertips to be released in an explosion of ink.
But these unspoken words were neglected for tight hugs and busy days. They’ve been left to shrivel up and die in a world without air.
Only now do I grasp my pen tightly, gently releasing a thought at a time. I’m risking everything right here.
But how else will I learn to fly?
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140,110 Literary Works • 673,017 Reviews
This was goreous, my friend
You have a gift. And if this is what happens WITH writer's block, I really want to know how you write without it haha! The allusion to spider legs gave me chills because, oh my goodness, it's so true. I have nothing bad to say at all. You are so talented. Great style and phrasing and flow. It was perfect and relatable. Good job!
~Jess
We don't choose to be writers. Personally, I see it as a punishment, that we spend our lives plagued by these thoughts.
So what I'm trying to say is I get what you mean entirely.