Name Your Poison
Words never fail me. I trust them completely. I trace them with my fingertips on my upper thigh when I’m nervous. I draw them on my skin using a black BiC pen while stuck in traffic.
Words are my friends.
When I listen to the radio, I note any unusual words found in rock songs. Sting uses terms like “luster.” I drive and roll the word in my mouth—luster. In “I Will Buy You a New Life,” Everclear repeats words. I speak the lines like a mantra as the road unwinds in front of me.
But Jack used words against me. While I can write from one dark sky to the next, speaking those words out loud is a hardship. My tongue trips over the hurdles. I sprawl on the asphalt, knees scraped, palms raw….