Without Bookrix…
A gripping pain rips through me.
The terror it bestows upon me so agonizing,
I cannot breathe
even though I try
a breath will not come,
it will not pull me away from this suffocating feeling.
My stomach twists and turns
It makes me feel sick.
The pure weight of all my words crush down on me,
I try to scream for help
But I know that no one will hear me.
I can feel the pile of words pressing down
On my arms,
My legs,
My chest,
My head,
My fingers,
My toes.
The weight of what is
My words and stories that have no place to that have no place to go,
They haunt me, sticking and clinging,
Tearing away my very last ounce of precious hope.
But then,
The weight begins to lessen,
I take a deep and slow breath.
My body begins to relax.
My words slowly meander away.
They have found their own place to live,
Where they can be read by the rest of the world.
Their home,
Where they now have their own life and stories to tell,
At Bookrix.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 03.08.2011

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