...
shame,
i've forgotten how
my words used to unfurl
like a folded piece of origami

how
it felt to write
like my blood was filled
with nothing but metaphors and ink

how
my words used to fit
with each other
utterly perfect together



all i see now,
are jumbled letters
looking too foreign and alien
in my eyes; unfamiliarity


what used to be
burning passion and life
in every piece now screams;
u   b   i    q    u    i   t   y



distinctiveness,
g    o    n    e
emotion,
g    o    n     e


the story in a work done,
the feeling that emanated then,
the desire that kept it going,
g     o     n    e