Frustration

I took a walkI want

to sit in the library and bury myself in thousands and thousands of words, piles of them.

But it’s closed.

I want

to drive my car in the dark, windows down, cold rushing in. Music so loud thoughts are suppressed. Music loud enough to drown in.

But I can’t.

I want

to write down everything that I feel, to make sense of it all, to turn it into something good.

But the right words, stubborn, refuse to come.

I want

to be asked “what’s wrong?” and I want to tell someone and I want them to listen.

I want to scream.

But my voice is gone.

xo, j

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