Crimson Haze

All these words running through my head. My thoughts racing ahead of my pen. I can't keep up. A jumble of lyrics and lethargy and letters. That I attempt to arrange into a modicum of sense. But it doesn’t work and I'm all over the place. Feeling. Hiding. Running. Yelling. Choking. Healing.

Repeat.
 
I stand still and breathe. And begin to write. Out it all comes like a dam that has broken and cannot be contained. Cannot be mended. Cannot be restrained. A tumble of words spilling from my pen like an overflowing cup of bright crimson blood. Staining everything red in my haze to be better, to feel better, to do better.
 
But you can’t fully understand. And I never seem to be able to fully explain. These feelings. So I hold on to them and I search deep within and I let my cup overflow. Over and over and over again. Until it’s finally empty.

Reviews

[Lost]

I love the "lyrics an lethargy and letters" alliteration, and I love the imagery of the cup overflowing with blood. I feel like this about writing too, and it's nice to see from others that find the same purging catharsis from it. It IS like a dam breaking. Words just pour out and you have to write them all down and let it happen. This is a very relatable piece for me, and it's comforting to not feel alone in my experiences with writing.

[Anaisa]

Thank you! I'm glad you were able to relate to this. It makes me feel good that you can connect to my writing. I feel the same way when I read you :)

[Dr. YumnaKay]

I can relate to this only too much. Writing at times cathartic, can seem to be burden too, with thoughts rushing to be penned while you grope around for words suitable enough for the unspoken to be laid bare in the open.
Your writing here has that rushing, tumbling over quality to it which I like very much.
Well penned.

[Anaisa]

Thank you very much! I'm glad you were able to relate to this as well :)