No More Words

I’m going to have to abandon this any minute now. This writing life. The writing life

right now. But I also have that feeling on a daily basis—that I’ll have to abandon it.

Not for something sensible or anything. But because I’ll run out of words. Not run

out of things to talk about. But words. I live in fear that they will no longer serve me.

One day, my last word will be written. And that day I will die, but it will not be my

last on earth. I’ll die and be forced to continue my existence. I make up the words to

write and they won’t love me the way I love them. And they will abandon me. So I

prepare myself to abandon them first. I must leave. I must cheat. I must break them.

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About heathencomehome

question marks & ellipses
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