It was art,
A beautiful yet deadly distraction
It saved me,
It killed me.
Only when I see who I draw
Or about who I write.
*
The love I told you about
Has left me...
Or rather, I left it.
It was too hard to maintain.
*
Pain came with it
And I had to deal with a heartbreak.
Then I find myself unconsciously
Writing poems about you.
*
It's like I've been craving for my old companion.
My old ride or die.
My old shoulder.
My old monami.
*
This was the first time I ever experience it,
And how I wished you were by my side.
Yet, is it weird that I feel like you are here for me?
Only through your words and rhymes.
