Words have run out of me


I used to write. I used to note down what I felt. And it would rhyme. I’d end up with a few verses to call my own. My poetry. But I used to.
I don’t anymore.

I feel a lot. But I write none. I haven’t run out of words; words have run out of me.

What’s worse, tell me.

Feeling everything at once, or nothing at all?

Drowning beneath the waves, or dying from the thirst?” 



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