I don't write love song or poems anymore.
I don't write how infatuated I am anymore.
I don't spew my heart anymore.

I am anti love, but in the sanest way possible.
I  have lost myself to love and I have found myself toxic for love.

I don't write about how you broke my heart.
I don't write about the gnawing pain.
The constant sting.
I don't.
I don't.

I write about how lost I feel.
How awake I seem but so congested I am.
Subliminally I have never felt so disappeared.
I have never felt so without soul.
There's a hole that has sunk the whole of me.

Who am I?
Where am I?

The girl, no the woman in the mirror, staring right back at who should be me. WHO IS THAT?

Out of sight,
Out of mind,
I am running out of time.