Sorry for being gone for so long. Have this short piece of poetry and good day / night.

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Time to think

When the pen in your hand marks it’s stronghold on blank white
When your fingers tirelessly rest upon keys, waiting for a spark
When the thoughts become too loud to shake off, yet too distant to perceive
It gives you time to think

The chill, dreary days just outside the window a reminder of a home lost to time
The floodgates slowly eroding, pained drips leaking through
The forsaken mind searching for something else
I can’t help but think

If the walls finally tumble down
If my chance for freedom is granted
If I panic and lose everything I have
I don’t want to think

I give myself time to become irredeemable
I can’t stand to watch myself sink deeper
I don’t have a choice but to wait
Why can’t I think?