POETRY THAT STAYS

When pain is over, go back to writing

The days between writing too much then suddenly not being able to write anything at all are always the toughest days. You see, the pause that takes place in the intervals had always been the loudest frustration you ran out of ways on how to cure. 

The ache there suddenly appeared like cliches and that everything you try to let out became the series of repetitive metaphors people get tired reading with.

It's terrifying how you consider writing as your aid, how it lifts you up from some stranded grounds, how it rises the sun on your midnights.

 But sometimes, there are worst heartaches you just stare at without knowing how to stitch. There are heartaches that require your attention and your fervor and your sharp feelings that tells you to feel every swerve and twist. 

There are heartaches that felt like it's killing you inch by inch you can't stand alone but you have to. There are some heartaches in between that poetry couldn't fix. 

And this is why I'm silent. This is why I'm gone for some days.