Friday, March 20, 2009

I like words.

This makes sense to me. I like words. They are like someone who knows exactly what to do with their hands. It feels so good it hurts a little. Outside there is a pool I could go swimming the way a body moves under water. I want to tell you everything.

Frozen, forgetful again. The part where I lose my head, the scene where I'm supposed to speak. But instead I sit and listen again. I'm stuck with these cards, I guess. Leaping from this cliff in my thoughts, I fly like the stones in my heart. Drowning in doubt for what reason. I sit so patiently, drenched in what you want me to be. I can't escape. I'm ready now, come get me.
--Kelly Clarkson, 'Ready'

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