To be read really really fast

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I keep starting and stopping and starting and stopping again,
And it’s a pain – because everything that I am musing is valid yes
But not enough for me to advance on them or attempt to digress
And I can only bring my own truth to the words that fumble from my fingertips and fall carelessly onto paper
But at this stage I’ve got more chance of being a butcher a baker or even a fucking quaker
Because I’m distracted by the thought of skin on skin and psychical interactions
And if I only had a small fraction of the day to be writing I suppose my focus wouldn’t be as flighting
But my own brain has shut me out temporarily and is refusing to let me in even though I am the one who primarily interacts with it on a day to day basis
Suppose I’ll go back to basics and start again tomorrow in a different environment with a new set of faces…

Maybe?
Ugh.

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