Words adrift

Today I write about the words that aren’t there. They sit on my shoulder and whisper silence in my ear. I squint my eyes and press my chin into my neck trying harder to listen, but all I feel is the breath of quiet.  What if the words never speak to me again and I am forced to pin another ribbon of failure on my chest? What if the words never spoke to me at all and this was all just a delusion that busied my quiet moments?

Words were once my hope and now they lay trapped in an empty bottle adrift a shore of a faraway island that seems so out of reach.

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