I used to be able to write.
The pen would touch the paper and my thoughts would flow onto the parchment,
I used to love to write.
It was only while writing that I could truly be myself.
I could block out the world and create a new one.
I used to be able to write.
But now my hand shakes before the pen meets the paper.
Now I cannot convey my thoughts.
I used to only need a pen and a notebook.
I used to be able to write.
I’ve lost part of me.
I’ve lost writing.
So the pen gets put down.
The notebooks get dusted over.
And the thoughts get lost in a tangle of words.
I used to be able to write.