Put down the book,

Submerge your cold fingertips in the water

and smile

Stargaze at the ceiling

write poems on the walls

and novels in your head--

the sort of stories destined to be forgotten the minute 

you try to recall it

those best sellers that fall out of your brain

down

the 

drain

with swirling water, a destiny away

one where you had paper

to write it down

A/N: I don't know if this makes sense, least of all the title, but it makes sense to me at the minute, so maybe even if it is all jibberish, at least its somewhat authentic, right?

before i go--you're loved and i hope you're having a good day :)