A Collection of Thoughts

11) Dreamless

Is this what it feels like? To have lost sight of your dreams? To have lost the ability to let the stories in your mind flow like magic through your fingers until they became worlds on a page?

When I was younger, at any given time, my life consisted of several different realities. I could be a faerie princess in the morning, and by lunch a soldier in a Queen's Court. By dinner, I would have defeated a monstrous dragon and by bedtime, my true love would have asked my father for my hand in marriage.

But, no more.

I am empty. I've run out of words. I've run out of magic.

There is nothing left in me but dying embers of a flame that had gone too long without being tended.

All I can do now is read, and read, and read and let my mind and heart be consumed by worlds that had once comforted me before, but never be able to find comfort in expressing them anymore.

Words are failing me.

A crucial part of myself is being silenced. It scares me to think that this could be for forever.

It scares me to know that I might never be able to finish the stories that still half form in my heart, wishing for the vastness of a clean page to allow it to take root and grow.

It scares me to know that I might die, unable to ever find the words to express myself again, having lost the fight to writing reports, assessments, analysis after analysis, without even trying to hold on to myself.

I'm lost. I've lost myself.

Help me.