A stinging emptiness sucks the creative nectar from my soul. The silent stare from my muse plunges deep the sting into my heart and I die. Lost. Wandering. I learn that I am compatible with my loneliness. I am akin to the echo of my own thoughts reverberating through the empty chambers of a heart. A desire for friendship mocks me. My promises–I keep. My desires– I slaughter.
A rage drowns in the whiskey of a promise—forget…forgive…forget…forgive…forget. Through the destruction of myself, I am good. Amid the honesty of myself, I am lost.
I don’t care if this makes no sense. Sense I understand. Sense is not what plagues me…
Be happy. Smile. A new day is dawning.