Garbage Talk

Your mind races. The words begin to form. You process the thoughts. Slowly. Detailed. Thinking of the mechanisms of the jaw and the movement of your tongue.  Everything in slow motion.  Hesitantly, you open your heart. The thoughts that had taken so long to perfect filter through your being. You open your mouth. Nothing. Silence. You struggle to scrape lost ideas. Phrases just grasped. They slip through the crevices of fear perforated through your thoughts. Your insides shake. The words are buried. Forever gone. A little piece of your truth dies.

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