Maybe I should've known I wasn't in love with him anymore when I stopped writing.
No inspiration
No drop of ink could graze my paper.
I was comfortable.
But is comfortability, boredom?
What happens when I find a new love?
After a while will I dry up again?
And then stay for a year too long
and break someone else's heart all over again?
YOU ARE READING
drugs & candy
Poetrythese were for him. but now they're for you. //#1 in personalwriting 04/18/20
