Day 3 

It was a Tuesday morning;

you’d slept for little

over four hours

and your eyes were starting

to grow hollow around the edges. 

I thought you looked dead-


but still,

very much dead;

I decided not to wake you right away,

but from the movement, you woke. 


It was Tuesday and I

was recovering from a

very nasty case of writer’s block-

hadn’t written in days-

counting the seconds

I spent away

from the page-

butting my head against

the restricted walls

of my mind-

sleeplessly running to you

for help. 

It was a Tuesday morning

when I woke, to find you,

my muse, stirring from 

your sleep-

you didn’t look dead,

in fact, 

you looked beautiful

but, I needed something 

to write about. 

Tuesday, it was Tuesday 

when I broke the

walls of my mind




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