I bit back the words because they were not pretty, poetic or erotic. I swallowed the bile because I was afraid you would see how much I cared, how much I loved, how much I fell. But every letter I kept trapped inside ate away at the beauty I never understood I possessed. They pounded my brain while I tried to sleep. They invaded my thoughts when I stared at the walls for eight hours straight. They taunted me when I dared to wish for my voice to return. Those words didn’t leave me, they are transforming me … with every breath, with every thought, with every drop of ink I’m prepared to leak.
Whiskey Tales and Spells 