Clamoring. The haphazardly hung bulb flickers, cutting through the darkness with each sway. The light is disposable. There’s things you want to see, there’s things you don’t want to see and then there’s this.
Words lined up side by side, waiting for their turn. The few lucky ones manage to survive. They nonchalantly float into the world, there’s no turning back. The others aren’t as lucky. The rejects have five seconds. The anxiety builds every millisecond, its their last chance. But today isn’t the day for last chances. The rejects are thrown away into the dark chambers of the mind where they are never to be seen again. They are squashed and kicked and hurled until there’s nothing left but empty.
They are the words screaming for a chance. They are the words that fear controls. They are the words that manifest all desire. They are the words that need to be spoken.