When inspiration flies pell mell through my head

Words flow through my fingers with rapid abandon, one upon the other

Dancing a tango across my keyboard to pirouette onto the page.

Rushing, they tumble over the yawning precipice to land in neat rows,

Straight furrows, ordered paragraphs

Thoughts and feelings and emotions bubble in the heated cauldron of my imagination

Weaving a narrative, making sense of an idea that started here.

In my head

Heart and soul

Blood, sweat and tears combine, forming the whole.

My words are swords piercing the paper, stabbing at conscious thought

Making sense of my emotions, giving me a voice

Shaping me, proving a point

Giving form to a place, an idea, a thought that will no longer be denied.

For my words speak for me, stilling the silent screams beneath

Confidence soaring in the beauty of my words

Shaping my stories.

Sculpting my poems.

My life imbued with the joy of words.

My words.