It’s Tuesday and I didn’t write yesterday

I didn’t write yesterday even though I tried.

My morning filled my time and the night brought me no words.

Instead I pondered the idea of writing for someone else and how that could be.

I want to make money off writing yet I do it as if it were a chore and cry at those who actually thrive.

It’s Tuesday and I’m on my way to work.

And as the work load begins to pile on I sit in anxiousness counting my dollars and bills.

To fear is to not have faith in God, I continously remind myself.

So I pray,

and pray,

and pray,

and leave the candles burning while I sleep because only a few things scare me and it seems as if burning alive isn’t one of them.

And I hope I become a good writer.

And I wish for My Love’s wellbeing and serenity.

And I wonder what to do next—

watching my work pile high,

my studies;

watching shows that have no matter counting the seconds on the clock as I drift into slumber while my heart pounds to the ticking reminding me of all the things that could be done and instead I sit and try to breathe–try to forget–try to..

Do something.

I gotta do something,

I say.

So for now, I’m on my way to work.

And I’m thinking of writing and how I wish I wrote more.

And how there’s much to do.

And how I don’t know how I’ll get by sometimes.

And I look at My Love because he’s so sweet. And gentle.

And he calms my mind. And shows me love. And I wish,

we can just go already.

Natalia

*late publish, sorry!*

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