Buried In Words
What? What, what, what, what? What do I write? It's a terribly awful predicament I wanted to share my thoughts today but was unusually shy, fearing all there things I wanted to say were too dark, too selfish. Maybe I'm slipping into the horrible state of mind again. But I don't want to go back. It's a wretched world. I couldn't react or feel to save my life. But I understand that. With this amount of writing, it's for all the ideas I have. But I'm too hesitant. Speaking of, what the hell was I doing in gr. 9? Ah, well, something to dwell on later. It's not distressing anymore.
Even if you have writer's block, just write. The last words I would ever say would be to my parents. A final "I love you" and "Thank you." Such thoughts about dying and leaving people in pain brings a tidal wave of emotion, heartbreaking incredibility.
Nothing to write, nothing to write, nothing right. nothing in my head. What the heck, what the heck do I write? I'm only frantically writing every word thatches to my head as I say it inside. How should I say- oh right, my mind is empty as it is full. I am sick, stuffy nose, rough throat, deep breath. I'm not a happy camper. Seriously, what I cannot stand as I stare at the moving pencil and think of how to write, what to write. Glance up as I see the door open and classmate enters the room from my peripheral. I should think of names for the twin characters who can change perceptions. Ah, erase this smudging I made with my hand. On the board: Plot, Characters, Themes, Settings; Something I should be thinking about.
I don't know what to write. I just have pencils to sharpen.
I don't know what to write. I have notes to make.
I don't know what to write. I have a project to finish.
I don't know what to write.​ I had a dream I can't remember.
I don't know what to write. Thoughts whirl around my mind.
I don't know what to write, except for the words in my brain,
dictating what I should write.
I don't know what to write. I'll sleep, instead