words.

As I look at her beautiful words on that not so simple page, I find myself envious. Her, in being so good with words, makes me want to be a poet of almighty words and powerful, passionate feeling, hidden deep within the meaning of the words. Although the words, as simple as they may be, hold a special place in my heart. Her words speak to me as though she actually spoke them to me. I feel like she is talking to me face to face and we are talking about the same thing and relating on every page. As I read on and on, I want to write just like her. with the same mysterious but yet revealing words. I envy those who can just have words flow out of them like an open wound. It makes me strive for something more, something bigger than what I am. It's like I am just an average foot soldier, wanting and dreaming to be something more. Like a commander of a mighty battalion. I am scraping by with barely anything. How good it must be to go by day by normal average day and just having beautiful, poetic words come out of my mouth with every syllable. People caught in rapture at your tantalizing words. Your people hungry, craving more of your beauty. All that seems to come out of my mouth is squacking, that is ugly and pointless. Its like a termite compared to a gazelle. Oh how I wish the words would just flow out of me like a powerful current. I shall sit here and wonder how I can change my words into something that can capture as much meaning as I am trying to portray. Until then, cover your eyes and run with your hands over your head away from these ugly words.