Dear Reader

We meet again

under the direst of circumstances.

See this year,

I am broken.

Tired.

Uninspired.

You have such faith in me.

I just don’t have it to give you.

Not this time.

Not this place.

I can only write.

Vomit my thoughts

onto this page.

I am callous perhaps.

Too caught up in myself

to even consider your needs.

See this time, these lines are about me.

Not you.

I know that is wrong.

Self-serving. Cold.

Please bear with me

While I pull myself together.

It has been a really harsh month.