I love to write–but if you ask me to tell you a story orally, I guarantee you’ll tell me to just stop before I’m even halfway through.
You see, I tend to get tongue tied when I speak out loud. My brain gets distracted and throws up barriers–barriers that my tongue is all too ready to trip over.
So, instead, I prefer to put my words in ink on a page.
Writers make horrible storytellers–
It’s a proven fact.
It’s not because we can’t weave an eloquent tale,
But rather, because we become so consumed
with manipulating and digging
for the perfect words and sentences
that the listeners are buried in an avalanche of rough drafts.
It’s as if my mind can travel in every direction,
but my tongue has only a one way ticket.
My imagination is stuck in an eternal state of wanderlust–
forever exploring around the next bend.
Like Romeo and Juliet, my thoughts and my words can never be together.
So, instead, I put pen to paper,
To remember, to ponder, to stay in my right mind.
I can listen to your stories,
But can’t quite elaborate my own.
I suffer from writer’s block in my mouth instead of my mind.
People question how I can staple
paper chain sentences together so effortlessly,
how I can cut open a vein and bleed
the ink of new words onto the husks of dead trees
Yet my tongue stutters and stumbles over the thoughts in my brain.
Maybe it’s because I was never properly trained.
Or maybe–just maybe–
I selfishly need to envision my words
before I can donate my thoughts to others.
Because writers make horrible storytellers–but their stories create beautiful words.