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fear — Description

There are certain lines I cannot bring myself to write down.
I know for a fact that the paper in front of me will not bite and that the ink I use will not sting...
But I cannot write down what I feel.
I can only feel what I write, and currently, it is either not much or simply too much.
It is more miserable than you’d expect, nonetheless real.
And so the lines I have, the ones I wish to be written, remain in my system as if... I cannot let them go, cannot make them flow.
All of this certainly makes me rethink my previous statement, or one of them, at least...
What if the paper bites back?
What if the ink burns me?
What do I have to lose, anyway?
If that is the cost of putting this weight down, I will risk it all.
I would not be afraid.
I never was.
But now, I am.
Afraid.
Frightened.
There are bits of bravery in admitting that fact, I believe.
How ironic...
Bravery in fear, lines in me I cannot put down...
But admitting this fear is a start.
And perhaps this crawl will turn into a walk, and a walk into a run.
And perhaps this inability to express my feelings will turn into writing it all down.
Every feeling.
Even this one.
Fear.
I.L.
@Iviwrites