The words haven't been flowing right since I left

It's like the mouth of the river

Is blocked by a boulder

Slowing the waterfall to a trickle

It's like the fire living in me

That burns for the words on a page

Was swept by a gust of arctic wind,

And reduced to embers

It's like the words are so afraid of being written

Shared, Enjoyed, Freed

That they hide in the pockets of shadow in my mind

Where I dare not tread

It's like when you left, or I left, however the story goes

I left, or you took, the words and set them free

Maybe they are your words now

Or maybe they're the stars'

But all I know is the once infinite well of words

That arose to meet the paper

That strung together stories like pearls on a string

Has dried up