They gave me hardly any words. So I withheld, gripped by fear that once the words were gone, I would no longer exist.
The words were far more than a woolen cloak I tossed about my shoulders. They ignited my neurotransmitters and deposited their seeds beneath my beating heart.
And now, without warning, they abandoned me. In droves.
My throat jammed with every word I knew. All the exits were blocked. The words fought for their survival as the least among them were trampled underfoot.
If only I had been given a …