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.