“Somedays I fear, I’ll run out of words.”

I think I’ve mastered the art, of taming my wild heart, now my heart doesn’t flutter, thinking about you.

Writers block grappled our souls, we fought back with our words.

Am I killing the kid in me, by strangling my curiosity?

I will never give up on you, from a person who treats like crap is not sweet. It’s toxic and you gotta run!

The opening chords of our rhapsody, lulled me into a state of bliss, as the glistening sunrise in your eyes, intoxicated my soul, drew me in.

I wish I had said no, the day you asked for my number, but I was young, dumb and numb, looking for a harbor of harmony, to mend my shattered soul.

How do you find words, when you’ve lost your soul? If every emotion you ever knew, you can’t feel them anymore.

If this was my last poem I’d dedicate it to myself.

Vibes change, Connections break.

Your eyes met mine, and we know our story, from beginning to the end, all things said and unsaid.

I opened the door to emptiness, traded my emotions for numbness.

You act like a cold cold man, frozen beyond repair, hardly uttering any word, action laced demeanor. Yet everything about you, from your ebony eyes, to your dazzling smile, makes me feel warm inside.

Paper and pen petrify me, for they pierce right through me, drawing deep blue blood, leaving me utterly cold.

Posts after posts I scroll, trying to find inspiration to write, or maybe just looking for a will, to kick away the laziness, and get off this state of mind, but nothing happens, as I scroll on and on, with the clock ticking, I scroll my life away.

When you talk, it feels like a song, and when you walk by, the time stops.

I felt the warmest on winter drives with you.