Silently Speaking: poems

I Used To Write

I used to write
Words dripped from my skin
Ink flowed in my veins
The poetry
Was crisp on my tongue
A thousand story's
Flowing like a dream

I used to write
To feel and to live
These things I did
The lines were clear
Solid and firm
I knew my name
I knew my way

I used to write
Yet the stars
They faded
My heart it clenched
Refusing to release
The flow now ceased
Everything changed
Flipping on a dime

I used to write
Now the world blurs
Words are foreign script
Finger tips numb
Lungs forgetting to breath
I melt away
Into a puddle of ash

I used to write
Everything aches
To have it back
Yet I'm addicted
To the cold
To the numbness
To the lingering pain of nothing

I used to write
The ink fled my body
In a sea of tears
Now I must consume
All the lost words
Rebuild what was gone
And start a new
A busted city
The rubble of stories

I used to write