Getting into bed.
My writing will never be read.
I may as well be dead.
Dissatisfaction bruises me.
Bathed in darkness and emptiness.
Nearly every moment feeling lost and lonely.
Over-analyze every action I take.
Regrets haunt my thoughts.
Failure and rejection make my heart and head ache.
Reading, research, interviewing, writing, repeat.
Classes, seminars, network.
Leaving me incomplete.
–by Aimee Steele
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