Silentious

"The words that wanted to spill from my mouth end up spilling onto the blank paper"

Sometimes, the things I've wanted to say never parted through my lips. The words stuck to my throat like thorns that stubbornly refused to leave. And so I took to paper. How the words flowed so effortlessly and my hand became the paintbrush I used to lay down strokes of vibrant colors onto a canvas.