I miss writting
letting words flow.
I miss the rush of catching all the ideas when my hand was too slow.
I miss the need of putting on paper what I felt,
of having to stop everything before I could forget.
I miss feeling inspired by the smallest thing,
a song, a phrase, your voice, your hair.
We took different ways
and you took away my words
but I kept all the love.
I havent been able to write in a long, long time. Since I moved. And I'd hate to think that the only reason I wrote was because he was next to me.
