sometimes my thoughts are so jagged they chip my teeth on their way out of my mouth. I used to swallow sandpaper, wear down my vocal cords, smooth over rough edges to make sure I did no damage. now, I leave my words sharp. I attach them to the nocking point at my larynx and pull back the string, so that when they hit the target, they pierce. watch as they fly through the air. ready. aim. fire.
