My writings transforms to a ball of glue, when I write something meaningful to me. It gets sticky and heavy… Like caramel to your teeth. Struggling… You can’t scratch it off, even if you try with tip of tongue, or nail of your index or pinky – just sticking there and disturbing.
Ugh, agglutinated words, clinging to my fingers, lips and my tongue. Gummed up in the back of my throat. Clogging the way out…
Again. The freedom to breathe is what keeps me going. A cheap freedom, if you ask me. It’s nothing I fought for.
Why can’t I let them go?
Choking on silence… Eventually the wheezing stops.
Eventually it transforms to sobbing.
Eventually it fades away into the approaching summer storm.