Shush Demons

7/28/19

Eventually you press yourself up against that wall, where you want to write more, you want to drain yourself of every feeling that's clogged deep in your heart, keeping it from beating normally.

You find yourself at this barrier where you want to write about love, about life, about what you want and what you search for, about hope and optimism.

And the well runs dry. Because all of it, was a memory.

Truth be told I haven't been actually loved in a long time. I've been blindly look for someone to hold without knowing where to go. I've been willing to give my heart up with out knowing where to place it.

I'm reaching out, stretching my hand, yet no one is out there to hold it.