I haven't written a poem in a long time
I forgot how it felt to find the passion I once had for the words you once said,
dripping from the same hands that once caressed you.
I think the reason why I haven't spilled my heart onto the white sheet is because I forgot how to feel,
and now that the blood stained feelings, i had showered onto the pure white paper, are gone,
i miss it
because when they were there
my hands were covered with letters to you.
My mind now is so overwhelmed with thoughts that miss the place they call home
but the place i use to call home isnt home to me anymore,
it your home
because now that your gone,
your the only thing I seem to think about late at night,
living in my mind,
im infested with the what ifs and i miss yous I wish i could say
but thinking of you inst enough to make me throw up the feelings back onto my lap, like seasonal flu
a flu so strong that it makes you forget who you are and what you were, but after months of sleepless cold nights, laying on a bed of regret and covered with shame, thinking of what it was like to be whole again,
the season has passed and
your only left with the fear that you might catch it again,
the same fear i have
that once i start writing again,
i'm left to catch the feelings i had for you that were once tattooed onto my sleeve.
- your the reason i still believe in hope