How do we start over?
When we find ourselves back at square one, back in life’s rut within the blink of an eye.
It feels like reading the same line in the same chapter of our own story over and over again, for what seems like an age.
How do we acquire the inspiration to fill in the blanks? When our muse has withered away, almost carelessly?
Eternal writers block seems certain and it pains us to just leave our story so cold and half written- when once upon a time it felt so warm, like the neverending embraces of yesterday.
The inkwell has dried out; leaving only remnants and blank pages.