Sometimes, the words don’t come.
Sometimes, the words don’t come. I write for clarity and peace of mind and the great exhilarated rush of fresh air in my lungs as I stretch metaphorical muscles to feel my voice…but sometimes, I just can’t do it. My thoughts race, and my mind is numb and empty, and everything is dull and quiet, and everything is too-loud too-bright, all at the same time. No words come together just right, so there’s nothing to say.