Is This the End?

I don’t have the desire to keep this going

I think, perhaps, I ought to get rid of this

Delete everything

Who cares about this shit anyway?

I don't.

But I won’t

In case I ever do again, you know?

I’m not inspired about anything anymore

I’m too old for love, too

That’s typically the most inspirational subject of my life

But there are cobwebs between the thighs

And my fingers aren’t strong enough to carry a pencil

I can't write

if there's no love

So,
fuck this.