The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain
jenni_the_odd

  • Mood:
When did expression become so inadequate?

The things in my head; they want out.
I try to write of them; words fail me. There are no words that could adequately describe.
I try to paint them; my brush falls dead by my side. Nothing.
I try to show them; my hands flutter uselessly, my face never sure of what expression to make.
I try to play them out with music; I am deaf, unable to force the notes to hold meaning.
I try to speak of them; I am dumb, my voice faltering each time my lips part.

And so I sit in frustrated silence.
And wait for it to fade away.
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