…
And here,
I thought I had
something
to say.

If we poets are sad
No tears fall from our eyes
Words fall from our hearts
That brings the blank sheet
And the pen in hand to life
They know how we poets feel
Because they were always
In good and bad days there
Like best friends for life.

Blank canvas
                       Empty
                                 Flat
                                       White
                                                  But,
                                             Potential

The hand that written have
become frozen.
Words have become
meaningless.
The paper is just an empty
blank space.
The love story is never
the same.

How can I say I love you,
when a poet died
and words are no more a word for love?
But instead, words have become a hurtful way
to **** somebody soul,
Like the poet.

I’m sorry I look at you with empty eyes
And speak with simple words
We both lost her
He both loved her
We both miss her
I just don’t know what to say to you
I see that pain in your eyes when you look at me
Like I remind you of her death
I miss all of them
It just reminds me I’m growing up
But I really really don’t want to
I feel like I’m dying but I’m just getting closer
Listen, I’m sorry
I’ve lost my mind and I’ve been trying to compensate by trying to be deep
Honestly.
Honestly.
I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore
I’ve been blank minded since I saw you banging on her coffin
I’ve been blank minded since I realized she was dead