I've stated it right away,
At the top of the page and my lungs,
a simple guideline:
"not about love"
that desperate rule got broken.
And so it seems only logical that
Once it became "about love",
all words left me
after such a blatant act of betrayal.
Can't blame them, I would've left myself if I could.
The only time I write anything about love, bye. I've only loved two people in my life and I know this second attachment will stay with me forever as well, like mold at the corner of your bedroom's ceiling. You keep painting it over, spraying with chemicals but the damn thing is always coming back. Also that's me explaining my hiatus, hopefully now I'll be able to write more since these warm feelings turned into somewhat harmless mold.