i am not good with words.

it's ironic, isn't it?

i am a writer, my life is centered around words, how i use them, how i interpret them.

i can use words to create whole new universes. i can read book after book and never tire of it.

yet i can never fully express how i am feeling.

i cannot explain the knot that is persistent in my chest; nor can i explain the anxiety that shakes my hands and twists your words.

i can try, and boy do i try. i'm trying right now.

it never helps though. i have the same mass of twisting energy in my chest screaming to be let out in ways i do not understand.

still my hands, help me.