Poetry? My Own Thoughts

Colors in a Polaroid

You know, I used to love reading.
I used to love writing.
I loved helping others.
I loved going outside.
Baking.
Talking.
Dancing.

But slowly, I started forgetting who I was.
The days started blending in together.
I stopped enjoying the things I loved and gradually stopped doing them.

I felt like I lost my personality and became dull and gray. Like I faded and got stuck in an old black and white polaroid picture. Stuck in a certain place in time, not moving forward or backward, just being suspended in time for what seemed to be forever.

But then you came along.

You and your damn beautiful eyes,
and your damn beautiful voice,
and your damn beautiful personality.

You were an unbelievable rainbow with more colors than I could count.

You came and hugged me and comforted me and gave me back my colors.
You gave every part of my personality a new color, even colors I didn't know existed.
You made me feel alive again.
You made me want to dance
and sing
and read
and write
and bake
and talk
and walk
and live again.

You held out your hand and reached out for me in between that gray stillness and pulled me out of that black and white polaroid picture.

And it's strange you know, the way in which you reignited that flame inside my heart and soul and made me feel lovable again.

You made me realize it's necessary to be happy sometimes, just like occasionally, it's necessary to be sad.

I hope that I helped even a small part of your personality come back and grow, just as you have helped me.