Dry Love
Every time I open a Journal to write a new entry, A blank page fills my mind.
Until I can find the words to fill the lines, I feel that he/she is looking at me in a dull gaze.
We stare at each other. It's a love that only I can express but like the pen, it can feel dry.
Until I fill it with the words that beg to get out, It stays blank.
The only touch is when I press the pages and flick them by my thumb. And that is enough.
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