And when there’s nothing
left to write about,
I look towards the leaves,
noticing how they let go
with the knowledge that
a season of growth
will arrive again soon.
I revisit the songs
that remind me what it
feels like to be free,
and embrace this warm
feeling that resides
deep in my chest
when thinking about
the people who love me.

And all at once,
ink is spilling out
the mouth of my pen.

-k.p