They make stories, each formulated keystroke, that I didn’t even know existed moments ago, appearing on the blank canvas before me, like magic.

They are personal, emotionally connected to one another, like the sweetness of a first kiss.

They are torn, walled up, defensive, yet they are tender, loving, and careful.

And they deplete me, when I spew them too fast.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s