I often wonder when I’m writing
Why, what use is it to take these words in my head and put them on a piece of paper

It’s not like they’ll ever be shared

It’s not like someone would read them and care

I often wonder am I just stalling until I learn how to speak again

Stalling until the storms and the silent thunder that echo in the cavern of my mind finally find their strength and learn how to die

I often wonder why these pointless words are so sharp when they tear my conscious to shreds

When their bitter caffeine tortures my exhausted soul to continue

One more line
One more word
Just One more
One more please
We demand it
One more

I often wonder when one more will be one too many