Yeah, You're really easy to write about. Some people are hard to capture. Not because they aren't 'deep,' but because they just don't have that thing. That thing that makes you turn your head around again becuase you just want to have another look at those eyes. Maybe this will help explain. You have people, and some of those people are really good at writing. And some aren't. Now imagine if you take a really good writer, and someone who struggles with it, to write a poem that captures the beauty and feeling of, for example, a broken window. Someone who's good at writing, good at seing the beauty and the broken in things, can write it down with so much ease. On the contrary, someone who doesn't see it, it's way harder to write everything just about right down. I feel like I'm one of those people who can turn everything into poetry. And you said, you never expected someone to write about you. But I know, and I'm sure of it, that if you ever met another poet, they'd write about you too. Because every poet I know, would turn their head around too.

To all the kids from 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, and all the others who were told they're to young to be a poet.

To all the theatre kids who can't sing but do it anyway

To all the people who post vines, memes and jokes on here.

To all the people who post poems while they're in class, or in the middle of the night.

To all the people who are open and proud about their sexuality and gender.

To all the closeted people who still post poetry about it.

To all the people who quote songs, movies and musicals.

To all the people who post the conversations they have with their friends.

To all the people who were told they're bad at writing, bur do it anyway because they like to.

To all the people who are unsure about their writing.

To all the people who support all these kind strangers online.

To all the people who support all poetry, no matter what gender/age/sexuality the person has that wrote it.

To all the artists that wanted to try something new.

To all the people who have known this site for years.

To all the people who are new here.

To every poet I haven't called out,

You make this community even better. I love you.

Type type type
Delete delete delete
Why all of a sudden is writing now a feat?
“Just write what comes to mind!”
But my mind’s wiped clean
Like the blank white page on my laptop screen
Nothing flows, nothing spills
Tauntingly the cursor blinks
I’m certain I’ve forgotten how to think
Nothing circulates, nothing pours
Hauntingly my fingers tap
I’m certain I’m about ready for a nap
Nothing runs, nothing spews
Dauntingly I press some keys
I’m certain I’ll never be at ease
I type type type
I’m finally overcoming my feat!
But I read it back, one word at a time
And now we’re back to
Delete delete delete.

I used to think the cause of the loss of my writing ability is because I am happy, which will be highly doubtful, or I am empty, that I don't feel anything, leaving nothing to write, leaving the words soulless.

Now it has come to a realization that the cause of it is because; I don't let myself to feel.

I buried my sadness in silence, in nonexistent boxes of shadows and slowly, painfully, I'm getting used to it. To not acknowledging my feelings, to think they're *******, that my sadness is useless, and I shouldn't feel that way.

And when it gets too overwhelming, too suffocating, I don't know where to go. I ran out of boxes, they couldn't take it anymore. I don't know where to go, and when I try to pen the sadness down, the papers sound as if they're mad at me, as if they refuse to listen. No words coming out, it's left blankly and I thought it's because words will not do justice to the feelings I endure, turns out it's because I unknowingly **** my own healing.

As I'm in the process to have it back, most of it ends to no avail. I want to write again. I want to write again, for myself, for my own sanity, for you, for the world.

When I'm lost
I write.
When I write
I bleed.