i used to have a candle in a dark room
and words were like moths
they thronged the glow of my flames
in the haunting darkness
that is my mind

ideas used to be like quicksand
once I set foot on the soft surface
it engulfs me whole
taking me to a different place
that is my imagination

i used to have a voice
i used to write in that voice
but i lost it
along with everything else
i didn't know what to do
i used other people's voices
i became a different person
for a piece of literature
i saw the world through the eyes of that person
i wrote in their voice
i lived their life

and i liked it
i didn't want to go back
the candle in my mind was nowhere to be seen
quicksands didn't take me anywhere special
they just made me sink
into darkness


after that
i just stopped writing



i lost my voice

but i have to find a new one


ns