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Description
I used to dream of nights like these
when I couldn't sleep because my pen demanded attention
when it felt like my soul was leaking out through my fingertips
when I couldn't stop writing for fear of the emotions consuming me completely
I used to dream of nights when the writing would stop

but in my dreams it was voluntary

I never dreamt that the words would beat themselves against the side of my chest while I sat, pen in hand, unable to let them out
I never dreamt of repeating the hours of unbearable consciousness without putting one word to paper
I never dreamt the writing would stop altogether

but it did

and now all I have are fragments of lines
and the rawest emotions I have ever felt
and the pain of being unable to put them down
now all I have are broken dreams, haunted nights, and blank pages of paper

I never dreamt it would be like this

Description
I used to dream of nights like these
when I couldn't sleep because my pen demanded attention
when it felt like my soul was leaking out through my fingertips
when I couldn't stop writing for fear of the emotions consuming me completely
I used to dream of nights when the writing would stop

but in my dreams it was voluntary

I never dreamt that the words would beat themselves against the side of my chest while I sat, pen in hand, unable to let them out
I never dreamt of repeating the hours of unbearable consciousness without putting one word to paper
I never dreamt the writing would stop altogether

but it did

and now all I have are fragments of lines
and the rawest emotions I have ever felt
and the pain of being unable to put them down
now all I have are broken dreams, haunted nights, and blank pages of paper

I never dreamt it would be like this