I haven't been writing.
I wanted to.
I think I need to.
To channel my thoughts, emotions out.
To empty the glass, make space for refill.
Yet, somehow, some reason...
The following juice is not translated.
The spinning mind is too reclusive.
The weary heart is a wary one.
I haven't been writing.
I wanted to.
I think I need to.
Somehow, I just can't