Cut off my fingers. Right through to the bone. It would make it easier to get the words out of my head. I feel like there used to be a straight line from words to keyboard. And now, no amount of your substance of choice can get the words right. I feel like a brick wall of hazy fog has been constructed behind my eyes and that I have to grab a plastic pail and childhood sand building implements to slowly tear it down. I feel like every door and passageway is blocked, closed or under construction. I have everything to say and nothing to tell anyone, because words can't make a difference.

Photo - N
Words - S