what are you afraid of? they asked.
i answered, that i’d fall for a man who makes me feel whole again, tames my wild, and i crumble in on the words that get left unwritten.
because my muse is my chaos; i need it to breathe.
…
they say if you are feeling blocked, you should free-write for thirty minutes a day. i know if i did that i’d fill up notebook after notebook with you. your words, your eyes, the way you’d kiss the top of my head when you hugged me tight, and i can’t. i can’t write that – it’s like sleeping with the ghost of you.
will i lose my voice, because i can’t stop hearing yours?
