I get scared.
I think I was always so used to words coming so natural,
That I forgot.
I use to breathe them out.
Albeit terrible, but something.
And now what?
I feel like the clock has been stuck on the wall for days.
I can't remember the last time anything was worthwhile.
I've got nothing.
A handful of useless and a whole lot of ideas.
It's like a set of new pens and writer's block.
Like loving you and putting my heart in your hands.
We're both just left with a handful of potential weapons.
With no real intentions of using them.
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