I lost so many pieces of myself through loving others. Now that I need some for myself, I have nothing left to give. Poetry is my solace and I try to write what I feel. A blank page stares back at me and I could not have described it any better. I crumble the page, holding onto it tightly. Sincerely hoping someone can translate all the empty spaces.
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 4:53 PM UTC
I lost so many pieces of myself through loving others. Now that I need some for myself, I have nothing left to give. Poetry is my solace and I try to write what I feel. A blank page stares back at me and I could not have described it any better. I crumble the page, holding onto it tightly. Sincerely hoping someone can translate all the empty spaces.
