Did I loose my passion when I lost you?
Is my inspiration hidden, buried beneath the ground waiting to be unearthed?
I've been grabbing for purpose and coming up empty.
So many ideas.
So many directions.
So much pain.
What's the lesson to be learned?
Why do I keep going in circles,
not able to get past the loss.
Maybe I needed to be there.
Needed the closure.
Needed to watch you go over to the other side, to know your peace as I had known your pain.
Dirt under my nails. Your voice in my head.
Finding my way, only to get lost.
Conflicted. My soul empty.
Lonely world, full of people.
None like you.
My pen hovers over the paper.
I stare into nothing.
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