209/365 : 2am, afraid to write

is there any poetry left in me?

my throat tingles and whistles 

so i suppose 

that's a yes

yes

there is the poem about the train

and the other one about the itch

and the big one about 

the owning

i'm afraid i can't keep writing love poems

about the same old love story

i'm afraid 

this love story

has gotten old