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| she sits outside at a classy little diner, cigarette in one hand, and a pen in the other, trying to think, her mind gone blank. She wants to write, something, anything, that gets her feelings out. Everything is bottled up, she can't express how she feels. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, sun beating down, in the Texas summer. She's drinking a chocolate shake. Her mind is still blank, and her cigarette is almost gone. The trees are blowing in the breeze. The cigarette is gone now. She wants another, but holds back, that's what she always does, holds back. She wants to talk, but has no one to listen, She wants to write, but the feelings won't come. They stay bottled up inside, where they are safe, and she sits back, and lights another cigarette. 6/13/04 |
| I wrote this sitting on the patio at Denny's Classic Diner. I wanted t owrite something, but nothing would come to mind. My mind was "blank". |
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