Pounding the back of my head, forcing the words to splatter out, instead of the usual spill of beauty. I continue to pound, though now, moving to the nape of the neck, pinching the skin, causing a fire of pain under the flesh; I get myself a coffee, the caffeine usually awakens something in my brain, but today, today it just sloshes around my head until I pound it out again. Coffee stains mark the page where words should be. There’s two children playing outside my window, they laugh, the sound vibrates through the glass, making us no longer strangers but three souls in harmony together, laughing. I laugh until my stomach burns, I laugh until the words come out, the page is nowhere to be seen. Spoken already, I carve my thoughts into the small table, the same table I refused to eat at as a child. I knew it would hold some use eventually.