Overthinking

Evolution

The words still flutter. Making their way through the tangled mess. The twists and turns that make up my insides. Inside, in a state of panic. The words won't escape. Caught in the web that lies behind sealed lips. Not quite ready to be heard. Only. The path is already set. Leading straight to instant mortification. Humiliation and destruction. Though not enough to empty. To bend and spin in dizzying circles. The flutters made their mark. The words, now permanent.