Draft after draft and I have no inspiration.
Draft after draft and I can’t figure out a good enough topic to even run with.
Draft after draft, words after sentences. Sentences into shitty empty paragraphs that lead to absolutely nothing.
But one draft into another, and maybe one will be good enough to share. But, ha, no. That won’t happen.
Won’t ever be good enough because the only time I ever wrote and the only time I ever had inspiration was when you were involved, when you were here.
So no, I have no words; no home for the twisty thoughts running a muck in my brain and no one can reach far enough to them-deep enough to grab a hold of and pull out, no one but you.
Until then, skim over the empty words that aren’t really mine, and were never really yours.

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