And I cannot help but wonder
if we are once again
sharing suffering
without knowing it.

Does your pen also hesitate
when you press it against
the blank page?

Does the ink refuse
to take the form
of everything you are feeling?

You are the only person
I can imagine that would understand
this desperate ache
to write.

The only one who might know
this jagged, broken feeling
of simply not being able to.

Not like before.