there is a sinking feeling of seeing the words...

there is a sinking feeling of seeing the words that have been inside you for weeks written by someone else. you struggle to get them out of you. you’re haunted by them. their presence almost makes you nauseous. but you can’t string together the sentences needed to purge them. and you read it in someone else’s writing. at first it’s beautiful and vaguely familiar. of course it is, it’s your words. and then your gut drops. you know you can’t write it anymore because that would be plagiaristic and you would lose credibility and respect in literary circles. but those were your words, those were my words.