Try it again.
It's been too long.
Like soft whispery smoke into dark charred lungs.
You can stop, but you never really quit.

So try it again.
Pick up the pen.
Grip it like a weapon - it is.
Glance at the clock.
Or don't.
Time is ticking always
Monotonous
A thousand glances won't evade it.
So don't look at the clock.
Just look at nothing.
The empty canvas of your thoughts
Your hopes and dreams
Gathered up into a spot of ink
Just waiting to drip

Now pour it out.
Like vomit from the throat of a pen.
Write it down, make it real.
When it's carved into stone, no one can call you a liar.
Whisper it, perhaps.
But what do they know.
But what - do they know?

Maybe you shouldn't.
Don't try it again.
Swallow your hopes
Down into the pit of your stomach
Suppress your ideas.
Because nothing is what it seems
Stop lying to yourself.