I can no longer sit
and write
with ease

The stories of fear
were so alluring
I could read them
for eternity

But now they're nothing but
a tedious
chore

Reading in general
is
hard

The words lull me to sleep
and the story makes no
sense
at all

My dreams
have melted away
into a corner of my mind
that I don't dare

                                                           ­                                             touch

Nothing is exciting
Nothing brings me
smiles

I can feel the part of myself
that I was so sure of
slipping
through my fingers

Being torn away
by the cruel grasp
of
of


                                                   ­                                                  of what?


I
I don't know
but I desperately hold
whats left
with an iron grip

And I fear if I look
at what I have saved
Ill find a handful of


                                                            ­                                          Nothing