• i. I can’t write with your words on my head, I can’t create when I’m imagining your world
    You are the permanent marker; I am the shitty pencil sketch on the other side of the paper. I am the receipt, the homework that the artist chose to make the masterpiece on. Mundane dribble, as opposed to your effortless prose
    I am trying way too hard.

    ii. he echoes. I whisper.