write, write, scribble, write
forcing some words typing on keys,
tap tap tap, hesitating here
broken measures, not sure what I am
writing on these screens. maybe tomorrow
will get my green thumb back, but not today
it's been too long, not really good so much
lost my touch lost my touch
I wish I had something to touch
starving from no touch.
march eighth (poem)
Author
villainess
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