Because I always do this- write stupid pointless paragraphs from disjointed stories that sit there doing nothing.

Words wound and weaved through my brain, like tiny tendrils of smoke coiling their way through my cluttered mind. Softly, silently they whispered in my ear, chanting out sentences and humming out ballads. I would lie awake at night dreaming of words, thinking of words, only words, always words. They were everywhere and nowhere, all around me and unable to be released. I wanted to scream them at someone, let them tumble like raindrops from my lips, unleash them all on the night sky so everyone could see them light up the night like stars. But every time I pursed my lips, every time my fingers hung on the keyboard, they didn’t come. And so they waited, coiled smoke in my brain, fogging up my thoughts until there was nothing there but mist on the windshield.

What are you gonna use this one for Caitlin? Huh? HUH?