A flush of emotion.
An inescapable vortex of contemplation.
Where do I begin?
To sit here and think seems so wasteful without action.
I find it difficult to speak.
What am I trying to say?
The point I'm trying to make?
Lost in translation between my tongue and their ears.
My only hope is these words make it suddenly clear.
This tool, I'd like to give it justice.
Practice makes better, I've heard.
This choice to surrender to a few dabs of ink
on a blank sheet of paper.
A gentle invitation.
I'll gladly accept.
The most honest and valuable therapy yet.