picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900126093726/
My words don’t fear judgment, they do not need comprehension, and they are in no specific sequence and order, but in the way I choose to place them.
They creep from foggy forests and long forgotten kingdoms that have grown all the while from when I was a child. They reflect the streets I drive in, windows closed, doors locked. They urge me along the highway when feel-good, loud music and the depression of the accelerator seem to be inexplicably linked.
They are the laughter on your lips, the nightmares in my dreams, the freedom only rebellion and the prohibited can provide. They are me, born to hot summer nights and cold, dark winters. Words are my toys and my walls. Words are more than just words. Words are alive.