
White noise dampens my black silence. I cannot hear the voices in my head. But I feel the abandonment as they escape in my pen’s inked disgrace. I pluck at the broken emotions pulling at my conscience. A blank canvas that finds comfort in a crowded grave.
(Silently shakes his head in amazement as he mentally assigns blame for his pedestrian writes on poor quality ink rather than his scattered thinking). Nice wordsmithing… 😉
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And thank you!!
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Pedestrian writes?? My dear friend, you underestimate yourself dramatically. 😉
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This is marvelous.
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Thank you, Tara.
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