as words escape, evading strokes of the key
i thought that my thoughts would be more open to me
a wrong turn in the lock & i've broken the key
ironically the curse will live on & my ghost won't be free
out of time, i find i only grow with the weeds
returned the present... its future ain't what I hoped it'd be
in my own time I learned to know misery
for writer's block's the only kind of thought that's spoken to me
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