When I am writing with a passion, my chest burns.
My toes curl.
My eyes are intense and focused on the paper before me.
I would grip the pencil hard enough to leave a mark on my fingers. Hard enough to leave a mark in me.
One that is like a never fading memory in my mind.
It can never disappear.
Never goes away.
It can only get lost.
I sort through my mind. Looking. Searching. For that image I had created.
Once I find. Once I remember it. My vision is long gone, stolen from my eyes and replaced with that very image. The one I'll never forget.