Words

Tongue-tied again. My words flipping around like a dying fish, still carrying that "edge" you speak of though. I tripped and fell onto my hands,   spilling and scattering my words everywhere. Tears flow down my cheeks as I try to pick them all up. I can't bare the thought of losing my tangible mind. Letters and phrases carpet the floor.   I don't want to lose this part of my Self. My past. I'm just not strong yet, I still fall in his shadow,   just outside his heart. The salty water causes the ink to run. I've ruined it all.   I grasp the mush that is left,   it will have to suffice for awhile. Until I can write again.