For a little while, the words were gone, leaving things in me backed-up and unsaid. Well, they weren’t gone, gone. They just seemed to get off on not being accessible to me in particular. They toyed with me in hateful ways. Grazing my fingertips with wisps of rhapsodic and entrancing that danced away when I tried to touch them
Dulcet whispers from a distant room promised to help me put pen to paper but flitted away when I got close.
Even worse, they directed my sluggish gaze toward hazy glimpses of diaphanous and evanescent that waited for my eyes to focus then disappeared in a teasing poof … glitter flickering in their wake.
I got tired of being fucked with, so I stopped looking. Just gave up for a bit and allowed no release for the thing inside of me. It swelled and grew until I could barely move. Filled me up to the brim with no outlet in sight. And then, just like that, the words started to show up in new places. Hidden in the sweetness of her kiss, lounging in plain sight along the curve of her arm or dangling coyly from her curls. Not running away anymore. Just there, as if they were there all along and I was just too stupid to see.
I am awash in words. They rise through the floorboards, effervescent and light. Hang from my ceiling waiting for me to reach up and pluck what I need. Others, flow past my calves, a soothing elixir. I lie back, float away in a state. Blissfully aware that though I have been here before, the words were not as sweet as this.