These days, I feel I've lost my spark
That flicker of creativity.
Well yes, I lit the candle;
I knew it was time for it to burn,
That eventually it'd burn out:
The dulling light emanating faint warmth.

But I think there's something poetic, too
About blunt truths
And being so honest it feels bland—
Bland enough to make you feel.

i thought i caught you
and instead you caught me
but you're loosening your grip
and i'm slipping down
but i can't grab onto you
because you're purposely letting me go
and i can't tell you to bring me back
because you're not ready for me
and you'll never catch me again

dust,
dirt,
bags,
work.
stuffed nose,
scratched toes,
all for the sake of the move.
making time for friends
is not an option
so i sit,
and write,
hoping someone will find me,
hold me,
tell me it's okay.
but the people that can,
are packing up.
packing up the rooms,
the beds.
and most importantly the memories.
they tell me i'll make friends wherever i go,
but is that true?
is it really true?
or will i just
sit,
cry,
and not know what to do,
when my friends and i
g r o w   a  p  a  r  t,
find more people,
people better than me,
that they will befriend.
those people will be better than me,
so it make sense why they would leave me for them.
i understand,
i'm alright,
it's my fault for moving
right?
the annoying question;
why are you moving?
that i can't answer,
even though i know the truth.
goodbye my friends,
even if we don't see each other again in this life,
maybe if we don't live around each other in this life,
if we stop talking,
if all i have left are the memories, good or bad,
i will hold on to them,
for this year,
was the year,
i met so many people,
befriended lots,
and was almost,
almost,
truly happy.

i miss the way we first met

i miss the way you treated me like a doll

i miss the subtle flirting words

i miss the times we forgot anyone else was in the room

i miss the crumble of my heart when you were sweet

why did you stop talking

do i know you

your harsh words set my heart ablaze
following the flames that light up my darkened soul
for I am not one to be weakened by hate
but I am the master of truth, justice, candor

I may battle day by day
to send your stinging words away
for I wash my bruised skin again and again
scrubbing away the hurt left inside
from the remembrance of you
the resemblance, but also semblance
misleading, misjudging, misinterpreting
leading me away
into a dark hallway of misery
but holding clarity
sending my mind into a black hole of despair
a single light will shine.
the question is,
will you follow it?

3 months of nothing
And 3 hours in I'm already bored