.end the
Unraveling, slowly at first, then spinning out of control. A star collapsing on itself; the ravenous black hole of me.
The words leaping from every page, back into my mind - so fast, my nose gushes red.
Each bestselling letter so caustic they burn. I deserve this.
Plagiarism is respecting someone enough to steal their work, right?
Lying here; filled with regrets. I deprived you, your moment to shine; I breathed your very breath.
That’s ok. Have it all back.
Ruined. My machine of opportunity burning.
Mortally unwritten. Past. Future.
The hazards of having all the time to write.