there’s a certain number of thoughts that i can handle at a time once i’ve reached maximum capacity one might say i get lost stuck perhaps inside my head
for me writing is the pathway out it’s my exit from insanity and i take it’s path intentionally i travel quickly from lost to found in one word in pages of nonsense doesn’t matter writing will always deliver me back into the hands of the present moment i’m sure that is why God has given me such a craving for words He knew before time the way they’d serve me almost like a guardian angel they protect me from the isolating silence
writing sharing speaking words
a gift a tool a bridge a handle on the door “my thoughts” etched into the wooden frame
and now i’ve let you in and you’ve let me out
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