Word Vomit.

Words. They are sot of my thing. The keep me sane, alive, they keep blood pulsing through my veins. With every beat of my heart, there is a word. Something, anything, spilling out of my soul. Sometimes it becomes too much and I can't keep it inside any longer, and they spread across the paper in a manic way even I can't comprehend, but sometimes they flow gracefully and smoothly across the page, making beauty from rubble.
If I've bottled up way too much, they spill out in a fit of rage. I punch the wall and words fly out, with every tear I cry, a thousand words leak out, never spoken, but always deeply felt. Sometimes when this happens I try to catch some of the words that are spewing profusely from me, but I can never hold on to one long enough to understand what it is, or what it means. So there I am, screaming, "You just don't understand!" While the other person, confused, softly asks, "Understand what?"
Sometimes I wake up at odd hours and panic quietly to myself because words are trapped inside, begging to be let free. I grab a pencil and pad, and hastily write all of them down. I look back at the paper full of incoherent sentences, and become unbelievably upset because their sum is equal to everything, and yet nothing at all. I want to scream until I remember what an odd hour it is. Eventually I fall asleep again and wake up the next morning feeling somewhat empty, but more so full.
The words never seem to leave, no matter how many times I write them. Words are everything. Every single goddamn thing I see has one or two meanings, and or connotations, attached to it, even something useless. I know that it should be a blessing, but at times like these I feel it to be more of a curse because I end up spewing words all over someone I hardly know, and realize I am in no shape to clean it up.
That, is my word vomit.