What Did She Say

I feel like writing.

I don’t feel like writing.

I have a million words swirling in my head.

I have no words making it to my fingertips.

I have stories to tell.

But they’re not just my stories to share. They affect other people and its not fair to be so selfish to think it’s my place to expose the words to the world.

I feel so many emotions, all fighting for dominance.

But I’m numb.

I want to cry.

But I’m too defeated.

I want to smile.

But I’m not sure what for.

I should be thankful for all my blessings.

But right now, in this moment in time, I’m not.

I sit here, illuminated by the only light on in my house.

Putting pen to paper, not knowing why.

Not saying anything.

But saying everything.

The only sounds are the clock ticking, the hum of the fridge, and the pen when the words are flowing onto the page.

My handwriting is barely legible tonight.

Not knowing what to say.

But saying it anyway.