I write, and the words are true
But i can’t feel
I can see
But i can’t talk
Its back
The block
The leash
The cage
It keeps me prisoner
It laughs
Amused by my torment
When i want to glare
All i can do is laugh back
It is funny if you really think about it
A girl with no real problems
Has trouble with her feelings
Feelings about what?
What does she have to be sad about?
What could possibly be bad enough that her mind silences her at every turn?
That when it is her turn to talk the words are right there
But so far away?
Held back
On the tip of her tongue
Its a silly thing really
Just speak
Its not that hard
Any other time you can’t stop
The words fall out, no barrier at all
Oh wait
That’s not me
Maybe once
When i didn’t know any better
When I didn’t know anything
Was it better?
When I was a child?
When i spout words like I’d run out?
…that’s exactly what I did
Or, at least,
Thats what it feels like
When i go to talk
Its like ive simply run out of words
Like everything i’ve every learned has left my brain
Just floated away
Like a dandelion fluff in a summer breeze
But where did they go?
How could they simply just disappear?
And why can’t I?