Not one word comes out of their mouths and yet not one word is written. Their shyness wraps around their throats and cuffs their hands. They can’t escape because their fear holds them put. Their fear turns to unescapable waves of anxiety. Coursing through their veins the poison that wants to be bled from their mouths does not bleed. Instead they choose to swallow and enjoy their captivity. Last night I talked to a girl whose tears had fallen before my eyes. She said “It’s not because I don’t want to it is because I’m scared”. I once knew her fear some time ago. I told her there was no reason to be scared but my words did not pierce through her. She told me that she did not have anything good to say so she does not have anything good to write. Her words did not make sense to me but the words I read ringed with the passion of her soul and heart. This brought me to my loneliest corner and at that point I held her. I drowned with her, in our tears. Sinking, deeper and deeper, I wanted to suck the poison from her and not let it take her from me. As we sunken to the bottom she began to bleed. Finally the beautiful smell of her truth bled and I smiled. The hues of red spiraled around us. Hints of the red sludge of her heart was the liberation she needed. It reminded me of the red velvet night that I was blessed with. They did not shred their dread. Dread ate them from the inside out.
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