all of our secrets often yield

losing drafts
has always made me feel like an idiot, 
because recently 
i managed to lose 
3 poems and 4 stories
in the space of five minutes 

so yes, i know i need to remember to save
but how can i work on other things
if i am still (if somewhat irrationally) grieving for
characters that will never come to life again

because it feels like losing a child, 
personalities slipping from my fingers
yes, i am attached to these 
but i cannot help it for the life of me 

and so i clutch the threads of their storylines, 
grasp at fleeting memories
attempt to reconstruct it even though i know it will not be the same

but i guess
i'll just keep trying. 

The End

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