I don’t know what I would do without words.

I use them. Sometimes frequently. Sometimes. Not so much.

but they are always there. Available. At my disposal. A moments notice.

the require no one. Complete autonomy. Independence. And yet dependent. A means to free myself from mental bondage. Eases impending doom through fluid phrases dripped onto paper.

Others read. They feel. They understand. And even if something isn’t written for them. It’s in fact meant for them.

versatile and universal. Words.