it’s raining.

my eyes glued to the window, i need them for writing though.

my book is full of stories i’ve yet to read. i just need to finish them.

i write better when i’m in Love. Infatuation, if you will.

still raining. it’s nice out though.

my chicken scratch makes chickens scratch.

i hate this damn job but job hopping is harder.

i wrote a sonnet in my head. too bad it’s not on paper.

this poem sucks ass. maybe i possibly suck ass.

nah.

rain is moody.

made a new playlist. already bored.

i’m bored.

i’m still not infatuated.

still raining. on my unwritten poems.