Blog, I guess?

Not sure how to label this but I need to vent.

I was once good at writing...

It's all I ever wanted to do.

I was precise with my wording...

I felt I was skilled.

But with him away in prison...

I feel like I'm less... me.

My talents, my skills, my hobbies.

Nothing satisfies me.

Imagine being hungry, 

but everything you eat tastes like water.

Nothing fills you up.

And you are constantly hungry.

Ravenous.

Mouth salivating at the thought of sustenance,

Everything turns to ash in my mouth.

Activities I enjoyed now leave me melancholy.

I have this mental block and these constant headaches.

I miss him so much.

He is my muse.

And I am mediocre at best without my inspiration.

I cannot feel how I am supposed to...

I am less human, I am less alive...

God... I miss his presence.