And when I sit in my room,
And I don't know what to write,
I sometimes lose sight,
Of what I'm meant to do.
Thoughts wander widely in my mind.
I just find myself sitting & staring,
Lost in thought.
Lost -
That's how I feel.
And blocked -
Creatively.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to stay.
Forever traveling, forever seeking.
A lost wanderer.
No all those who wander are lost, they say,
I wonder if that's true.
I have to keep moving,
Afraid to stay, afraid to go away.
Kinda codependent, but still alone,
And anxious too.
About the past, the future, and the now.
Feeling empty, when I'm not in love.
Tired, but my mind wide awake.
- Writing about writing
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