The days collapse into one another painstakingly and as quietly as if they never existed. I am surrounded by the unwritten; all things notable seem somehow too secret, scary and sensitive to voice. I tread around them carefully, afraid my very touch will make them immediately real. Words are difficult: each one stings a little as I pry it from the recesses of my consciousness. I almost want to stop fighting for them.
Yet it is now more than ever that I require the anchoring power I once found in words.
Welcome to Blog Every Day August, friends.