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Utter the words in paper and pen. Make them move to the heights of your fury. Dictate the keys into wild abandon. Destroy the board. Make the letters chase you to the alley of fear and remembrance. Climb into the whiteness of the page and darken it with tales of secrets that stain the eyelids — heavy with the joy of release.

Hail the craft bequeathed you in the afternoon of discovery when the bed lifted while you gazed below with the amazement of power that releases only when you lay in wait for the savior that never appears.

Give meaning to the thesaurus that is packaged for freedom with the expressions and descriptions — that convey the emotions — swimming around your template with each step of betrayal that is amassed from the sins of living too long to forget.

Enhance the elements into stormy weather and drink the knowledge of the rainfall that never gets you wet and yet you’re barely visible when you idle by and stop to breathe in your reflection.

He was there and so were you. They all stood and watched you wither into blossom as the fields settle you into the story of your life.

Be that writer.

Please accept the plea from a bloated journal that needs to be shared for the sake of truth and anger.

Show the tendons — wiry with dead blood vessels that begin to flow only when you decide to be that writer.

Utter the words in paper and pen. Make them move.

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