Sat in silence,
A minute passes,
An hour.

Silence overwhelms me,
Like a blanket,
Suffocating me.

Hand shaking,
Ink stains blotting
A once Perfect sheet of paper.

Scarlet dripping on the floor,
As my breathing becomes shallow

Slowly
            Fading
                         Away

Until there's nothing left of me
But the empty shell,
Of what I once was

pick up the pencil.

my mother told me
to make something,
but I didn't have the strength.
I didn't have the courage
to tell her that the pencils are suddenly
far
too
heavy-

"you have to start making art again."

mother, I've tried.
I've tried too many times to count.
I have spread out my pencils
and arranged my pallet
and taken inspiration till the pieces
blend, lose shape,
but everything has lost its color.

blues are so gray.
red is even grayer.
yellow is a sickly highlight,
and I can barely stomach
the near black shade of old purple.

and when I look up,
I remember that my world
has gone gray, too,
and I had forgotten
till now,
pencil shaking, paintbrush askew
between weak fingers.

why bother?
it's all the same color
anyway.

so I let the pencil drop.

Oh Mine!

Lost in my
mind;
not the woods.
Drowning in my
thoughts;
not the sea.

In my desperate search for true love;
I lost myself.

I caged myself for these three years,
Mingling socially is what I fears,
Out of boredom I stepped in tinder,
I found you as friendly message sender.

I was in this complicated love,
My mind dealing with questions to solve,
You took my thoughts away from him,
We messaged, chats and I got over him.

You always console me on my terrible love,
You taught me how to solve this love,
No more console I need for that rotten soul,
He can **** up and die on his stinky foul.

I need the strength to be alone,
I need my wings to everywhere I flown,
I truly won't mind if you come along.
I would need a friend to survive this long.