are ruling my life at the moment. The word 'lump' has choked my throat all day. It sits there, humped and squat in my mouth, flexing its consonant blends. It's like a mound of dried chewing gum, hard, inflexible and immoveable.
Gutteral, visceral words. Words that scrape, that raise an edge in the reader. I feel the hairs on my arms start to rise just reading them. Like the taste of gristle suddenly in one's mouth, I choke and try to spit them out. Armed words, words with knives and blades that whirl from dark corners when I am out walking my sentences. Words that swarm out of the darkness, that tighten my tongue, that constrain my throat and screw their hard edged sounds into my brain like an alarm. They spin around the empty maze of my brain, they drill into my skull, and they solidify, coalesce like hard, black slate to leave a metallic taste in my mouth.