Words like droplets of water. Sentences like a tsunami.
I keep picking picking picking out the sentences out of words that are raindrops. The rain turns into a storm, if I don’t say the words I’ll drown.
Static from the old tv is what’s happening in my brain. If I focus it, pick a channel, will I be safe from the demons made from keeping the tsunami at bay. Words can be a tree, please save me from the ground. Words can be a cliff, how do I get down? What if I dive head first? If I make the leap maybe I’ll be cradled by the soft hands of a wave.
I will not be pushed off the edge, letting the tide strangle the oxygen from my lungs. The icy grip, using itself to kill. How can something so deadly be so beautiful? How can two twins by different names be so similar yet one is dragging me to the bottom, letting the green tendrils snake around my legs and leaving me gasping for air. The other is the only thing keeping me alive, it’s the oxygen filling my lungs. What if the oxygen is water. I’m gulping it to stay away from the light that’s inching ever closer with time. But the water is a flashlight and the light is here and I will say what I need to say for as long as I can.
You see the thing is rain can cause the flowers to grow but what do I do if the flowers are blocking my throat. The flowers are stopping the air. All the words in my head are blocking my eyes from saying what you, what I, need to hear. My throat from seeing that the flowers created by the rain created by the words are the only thing saving me. I may be choking but at least I’m alive.
Breathing is boring anyway and what’s life without a little challenge. What’s life without a little pain.