the well is dry. this pen has no ink, it is slave to the sword. "strike one" my words haunt me like the boogieblack arthritic fingers replace this mind, dead to literature. "ball, no strike two, outside corner" my four walls a tomb alabaster prison walls, marvel at their lack of distinction. "low and away" there is plenty of paper, it snickers in my face, reminding me violation is rape. "throw to first" no guts no glory no ideas no comfort in Writesville, Mighty Casey has just struck out.Birth sign: Virgo
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