The Written Word

Weakness coursing through my veins, as you might acknowledge a surge of excitement, I feel the flow of losing strength. Not all physical, the will to battle too. It takes a energy to create such a façade, to keep control, to seem to feel when I cannot. Lately, thoughts pacing through the mist, I often lose my word. My words. What i see when I speak the only way I can express the true depth of my cursed emotions. Words visible; seen, written. For to speak is not but a jumble as one needle in hundreds. A mind still sick at war between acceptance and loss; even a sliver of hope. Hah!