Slow can be so uninspiring it's mind-numbing.
My pen doesn't want to speak slowly
But rather wants to
Barely keep up and cramp my hand
From all that she needs to say
And all that she tries to catch
As it races through.
Give my pen material;
Give it life.
Stop the stagnant,
Cease the stillness,
And surrender this slow.
I'm ready to write this story,
Tapping my fingers,
Waiting for plot.
Ready to write pages
But instead can only piece together
Fragments and phrases
All truncated
All halted
Just breaking my pen's heart
For she longs for flow.
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