As a writer, it should be something that I do best.
But proper words desert me.
The most beautiful adjectives seem at lost.
Inexplicably, unfathomably at lost.
My mind is betraying me. I Write because it tends to increase the experience ten times more wonderful, more intense, but I’m all bottled up inside. As I am writing, my nerves are like frozen strings, too stiff to write yet unnervingly wanting to express…
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