My mouth constantly betrays me, the distance between my head and my mouth is sometimes too far and words and meanings get lost along the way. Like that time I tried to tell you that I loved you but as those three words travelled along the bumpy road from my head to my mouth, they all got lost and what was left was silence. Three seconds of silence. One for each word I wanted to say but didn't. You see, with writing, it was easier. The road from my head to my fingertips was much smoother. Words would flow from my fingertips creating sentences more elegant than my mouth ever could.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Writing was my home.
Now, there is a traffic jam inside of me and my words are trapped inside of me. They don't belong in here, they belong on paper, they belong in the space between us. Take me home.
I want to go home.
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