The writer sits, pen in hand
She knows she hasn't written in a while
She thought maybe she'd start writing again
Considering she writes when she's depressed....

She sighs
And wants to cry
And wants to sleep
Because it doesn't hurt when she sleeps....

Why has she slipped back into this?
She asks herself
She was never like this
When she was with him....

She was happy
When she was with him....

She was in love
When she was with him....

And she's still in love
But that love is denied 
And so, she sits-
Depressed and writing
Without him