The Break Up

I was mad at Writing

I felt that Writing had betrayed me.

Writing stopped being what I needed it to be

Namely cathartic

Namely an escape,

A way to put things down that weighed on me.

So I rejected Writing.

I kicked Writing out.

I banished Writing

As I felt it had banished me.

I was like Donald Trump

when Macy’s dropped him;

Nah nah, I don’t care!

I was gonna leave you anyway Writing!

I pulled away from Writing.

Writing failed me

Writing cut me out off from its warm

Writing spit me out.

Writing washed in and washed out

Writing tapped on the glass window of me

Peaked in at me

But would no longer enter,

Writing teased me but no longer held promise.

I was in a sinking boat made of Writing

tossing out words as fast as I could to stay afloat,

but writing drowned me finally

because I was water logged with words

tied to the dead weight of Writing

and when I hit bottom

Blank pages floated to the surface.


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