Wall made of silly words.

   i am trying to lay the words down but they refuse to come out.

Evil tricks on my finger tips.

the syllables gather on the tip of my tongue.
stuck to me
sunk into me.

A metaphor taps in my deaf sense of direction of where i am going with this.

screaming in my ear.

i cannot hear the meaning they are trying to make.

a wall is built between creativity and reality.

i force my way through and shape my own entity in this sad, sad world.

This wall is made of silly things.

a concrete slab of common words and phrases i cant seem to get past.

delicate.

creatures.

monsters.

THE BEAST.

literature seems to be eating me from the inside. and,
while i drown the only thing i can think of to same myself is to scream more words.

a cry for help?
a cry for a new game?
a cry for attention?

...no

a cry for existence.

silly words trace my lips, pressed against my fingertips.

x