Write What Disturbs You

The quote stood out to her.
It made her pause and think; that is what she does all the time
She writes her thoughts down and most of the thoughts are of the disturbing kind.
They are the kind that will eat a hole through your stomach if you do not vomit them out.
They need to be given life. She had been split open. Stitched back together. Then split open again.
Her words here were her way of assuaging the fear.
The way to get her point across.
But it did leave her vulnerable.

Flowing lines of words that eloquently waxed about how she understood the actions of those around her.
Apologies to those who read her word smith work and feel the pangs of uncomfortable feelings arise.
Foolish wishes and fantasies played out for all to see.
Only she knows the players within her mind plays.
Only she knows the taste of him on her tongue.
He makes her high like no other.

And even as she spins these words now she feels herself being split open and the fear rises.
She feels that when she has her words they are made of glass, primed to be smashed into a million pieces.
Her self protection alarms ring.
But she is hooked on the what if scenarios.

What if...
What if....she could look into his eyes once again.
Kiss him again. Feel his skin under her fingertips once again.
Just sit with him again in the summer heat.

Words dance across the pages of her soul diary.
She will continue to spin her words to save her soul and perhaps....

   just perhaps one day he will come riding in on the white horse to save her from herself.

Or, more likely, she will be here with her white pages and her letters on the keyboard spinning out the words to save her own soul.

She will watch him walk away again and again but she can dream her own ending.

Right?