I fell in love
with the magic of stringing words into letters
and putting them on a piece of paper
I fell in love
with the blank between my words
that were not quite as empty as it seems
They were dark matter of feelings
that remain an enigma to me, until now
when words fail me, there were always the tiny blanks
that were not quite as tiny as they seem
they were nebulas of feelings
too complex to describe with just mere words
And though I may not be a poet,
I fell in love with spilling words on paper,
creating my own universe when
my voice failed me

I fell in love with the art of poetry