i ripped page after page out of my journal.
some of them were filled with words that scattered the surface of the paper, falling into a puzzle only I had the last piece to.
others were blank, awaiting my pen to scribble lines of hidden lyrics that i hoped had a deeper meaning as i addressed letters to my loved ones.
my thoughts always make more sense written down.
this is the closest form where i can express of the movements that go one in my head.
when i utter my innermost thoughts, they come out in spurts with “likes” in between.
slang words drip off of the end of my tongue as i shriek with laughter in front of my friends.
but my mind goes elsewhere, not fully comprehending all that it is capable of.
i see beautiful symphonies of words and strings of syllables that i know will never leave my bathroom.
because i think best in the shower, void of all distractions, where i am in my purest form.
naked and afraid. no, i don’t like that reference. naked and vulnerable.
vulnerable to the silence, vulnerable to the water flowing over my skin.
no time to think about insecurities, no time to reflect on the negative thoughts that want to peer into the back of my mind.
but i am consumed by my thoughts, by my emotions, by myself.
so i stopped singing in the shower.
i stopped singing when i realized that my own voice was trying to visualize and create, and i did not care to take over the voice of another.
finding myself was blissful, but finding my voice was unparalleled to anything i have ever experienced.