I stopped writing
for over a year
and some months
and a few days
I started writing
when I was 18
and some months
and a few days
It poured out of me then
just gushed out
of holes
like
my head had been a very old mountain
with a glacier
and it was the warmest summer
in 10,000 years
And the words continued to flow
for years
for 6 years
and some months
and a few days
And it was as if
last year
the very old mountain
was now barren
of glacial ice
and what was left behind
was dull grey conglomerate
rock
And no words came
for a year and some months and a few days
nothing came
But today
it felt like something might be left
like i still had a purpose
like i still had something to say
As if despite the dry weather
my will to pour out
will draw water
from dry rocks
Until there is just sand
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