Give me a pen
and enough paper
and i can write you an impassioned
novel
on my thoughts
my feelings
everything about myself.
i can be direct,
discuss things that would normally
terrify me to admit;
i can be open about
depression
anxiety
my feelings
everything there is.
Ask me to vocalize these things
and i stumble
stutter
the glottal stops i thought were trained
out of me by a particularly neurotic
high school English teacher
becoming all my words
i will tell you ten thousand
stories
about everything and anything
except what i'm supposed
to be talking about.
i've never understood
this disconnect
between writing and speaking -
surely either way
it's the same words in the same brain
and they ought to come out the same.
But with paper,
i can edit, re-edit, rewrite,
perfect each line and word
in ways that speech has never offered.
i don't have to worry (and sometimes,
worry becomes all i am)
about misspeaking,
misphrasing,
making things seem less important
than they are
or more.
i have a chance to say precisely what i mean to,
rather than a crude, stammered approximation
of gratitude
or pain
or love
or fear
or anything else.
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