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Irritation. Stress. I forbid thee from my head and mind. My words come clear as day, flowing like a river. The river cleans my never-ending swarm of thoughts. My thoughts are shoved into the recesses of my mind. I forget them for a moment. As long as I write, my river flows and keeps me from thinking. The river is my sanctuary. I barely can go a day without rushing to wash out my thoughts. It calms me, and I live. It is always my words that will do this for me. Only my words give me peace.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/teejay333