*insert title here*

Words.

The silent carriers of our thoughts.

Sometimes, when we really put in the effort, we can breathe life into them, stand back and watch as they take flight.

Beautiful little things for us to craft and sculpt into manifestations of speech and thought, the heart and the mind. Something we can understand. Tangible records of feelings that further trigger feelings within, creating endless possibilities for writing.

But lately, it is becoming exceedingly difficult to write; the words don’t come out right. Halting, unfinished, incomplete, misappropriated, convoluted… all wrong.

Maybe it is the thought process itself. Reaching deep within myself to find the right emotion to fuel the correct words is becoming harder and harder.

I feel drained.

I am feeling a certain emptiness inside. Perhaps that reflects the current state of my heart or soul. I don’t know.

I have to stop writing for a while. For a month or two, maybe. Or for as long it takes for the wild thoughts to come galloping my way so that I can tame them once again, and for the raging tempest within to calm.

But for now, I don't want to, and I can't anymore.