Journal, Diary, & Blogging / I now have a shadow.

My writing is a sure curse that is coursing through my veins, causing me to shake unstably apart. The words are exploding forth from my joints and jaws, pens and my claws, no matter what I do; my words simply walk right through. My words stampede through the dust, trampling right over the trust.

My paranoia grows with every morsel, every letter, and every line. My head splits in an asymmetrical fit, sending shivers to tackle my spine. I writhe and curl, spit and hurl, as words ooze out. Breathes are strategic, well placed and defeated, meaningless to one such as I. Cells need not move or carry me through when I am figuratively fried. My thoughts rotate around metaphors and similes alike. I live as incoherent as a new age now old, yet all I can do is vomit. My words make me sick, like some cheap parlor trick, spinning in squares in my head. My hands to my ears, screams between the tears, blood douses out my fears.

I’ve made this enemy tangible, and know he is here.

I now have a shadow.

Reviews

October 31, 2007

bardic_rose

personal info reviewer stats

No. of Reviews	Overall Quality	Comment Followup
12	60.0% (5 votes)	73.0%

Age	Gender	Location	Last Login
23	F	Dallas, TX	October 31

bardic_rose reviewed Version 1 - Read 100%% of the Item

I wrote something similar to this a while ago, but I have to admit, I think you did a better job of it.  I know exactly what it is to feel that the writing controls me and not the other way around.  Great read.

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