I have lost the fire that I had for writing again
the last time this happened I was heartbroken
two years later and my life is the best its been since I can remember
the sad thing is, I can’t remember much
everything I can remember sends me to a dark place
the kind of place that people like me aren’t afraid to venture in
the kind of place that regular people have nightmares about
where do writers go to find their muse?
what do writers do to find their muse?
I assume they go back to these dark places
where they were heartbroken by the love of their life
where they’re families made fools of them
where they’re friends turned out to be enemies
where their dreams were shattered
we all just want to express ourselves
I just want to impress myself
I have lost the fire that I had for photography again
still I pick up my camera to capture moments that are dull
still making every moment seem beautiful
I usually dislike awkward smiles from people
so I tell them no to smile
I have realized that some people don’t know how not to smile
at the end of the shoot I review the photos and I’m not impressed
I stare at the photos and I try to find a meaning
I never liked portrait photography anyway
I have lost the fire that I had for love
too many let downs and stand ups
yet when I open my eyes and yours are still closed
I’ll kiss your cheek and whisper things I’m afraid to admit
I’ve been loved before but I’ve never…
had someone ignite a fire in my eyes
every time she touches me with her lips
and when my head rests on her chest
I find that love does exist
and my muse seems to be nights like this