This pen I chase is an evil saint, ducking and running while I flounder in guilt; blank.
Only when I surrender hope of inspired genius does it tempt and slide right into my hand; words flow easily, mistakenly unending.
Emotion runs dry and it rolls away disinterested; callous with my fragile confidence.
I await the day we find compromise in this shared love of creative ink and tale to settle this war we wage; come to terms with our codependency.
Picture is one I took and edited on my phone. Lol
Sorry about the long pauses between writings. I am coming around, I promise.☺