A Monday Musing

I wait.
I breathe.
I find myself lacking all those things 
I need to be whole.

To be me. 

I try. 
But it doesn't matter.

I sit.
I wait. 
I'm done.

I used to write all the time. 
Notebooks filled with poetry and stories. 

WORDS. 
WORDS.
WORDS.

Just words.

I used to convey all feelings...
all thoughts...
 all pieces of me.

It's lost, that part of me. 
It's gone.
I was fueled by such sadness and despair 
that the words would just flow from my heart, my soul.
They'd flood the paper with a rage
so deep that I could not contain myself.
The page would tear under the sheer
passion that flow from inside.
 
And now,
Nothing.

I, I, I.

It's all about me.

I wait.
I breathe.
I try.
I sit.
I wait.
I'm done.

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