I run scared.

words don’t come easy for me, i suppose they never have.
tongue-tied twisted thoughts
temptation to tell, talk,
take part in this relational process some call life.
but nothing comes out.

mouth open, lips in motion, tongue stressed
silence. still air. nothingness.
I do have ideas, I promise.
there are phrases, complete sentences in my mind,
running unafraid,
untroubled by everything except a fear of being uttered

and so here I sit, dead silence,
and you think I’m nothing special.
and I can’t change a thing, because words don’t come easy.

Wildbirds & Peacedrums are pretty cool.

Also: Old news, but Meg White got married. There go all my indie lesbian fantasies. Sigh.

So...

I suck at posting, but my summer isn't really exciting. 

The end.