Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it.
Wish I could remember the day my head started spilling out all of this, because I’ve come to notice that nothing I ever write really begins or ends anywhere. Maybe if I can find the starting point, I can have faith in an ending. I write the most when words seem to have escaped me verbally.
Ever felt the need to throw everything away in the biggest, dirtiest, loudest, most dramatic way possible?
