I forgot to write..

Those twirling lines
Like chocolate coated
Marshmallows.
Swaying like dancers
Moving in sync.

Those flowing pens
Like a fountain
In a garden of paper.
Gushing out colors
Painting petals with ink.

I forget to write,
But in the darkest nights
I feel the urge
To stab my skin
And write with
A scarlet pen.

My mind is but a maze,
Full of twists and
Unreliable turns,
Like dust on the table
And ashes in the tray.

Like sands of time.

That makes a desert with
Storms of Ideas,
Scorches your senses
And chill's your way.

I just forgot how to write..
Nothing special.

Because,

I have not written
Since then till today,
None, but a single word;

Your name—