I want to write.
I truly do.
But there are moments
when nothing speaks.
Splinters of time
in between the seconds
during which
I hear no voice.
Maybe that is our curse,
you know?
Being as impure
as we are.
Our connections
with the higher
and deeper parts of ourselves
are so weak
because we have forgotten
how to use them.
As I sit
and stare
at this blank page,
waiting to be guided
I am greeted
with nothing.


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