Saturday, December 29, 2012

Write with blood

When I write, I write with blood. Words swim in veins beneath my skin, traveling the landscape of my body. It’s the process of retrieving them that’s the hard part.

Sometimes they come clean like a nurse collecting blood with a needle. It stings but leaves no trace.

Other times, words itch and beg to be released. With fingernails I dig, opening wounds like a soldier searching for a bullet inside an arm. It leaves scars and empty holes where nouns and verbs used to be.

It hurts but it needs to be written, needs to be said.