Work Text:
I can not write.
My words to not have the same impact as others with wings gracing their hands,
Flying across letters, a sparrow in their element.
My sentences do not convey meaning.
I have not been taught the dance that is dialogue.
The ideas I hold in my mind will forever be locked in that confinement
Or thrown on a page in a desperate attempt to portray my thoughts.
Feast your eyes on my sorrow, as a writer born to be trapped in my mind.
