Today from the blues,
He asked me to write him something like old times. “That person doesn’t exist anymore. ” I responded. Knowing him, he wasn’t going to bulge, so he kept on. “Ok,” I surrendered, pissed at myself that he still had some sort of control over me.I paced around the house almost feeling nervous. I hadn’t felt like this in a while. I have been calm, my life had been serene. Until this moment.

I picked up my pad and tried drafting some rhyming lines. Blended with a few quotes of wisdom I have read in the recent past. After two difficult lines, I tore the paper off the writing pad.

“Dear, I don’t write beautiful pieces anymore . You caused a storm inside me. I carry arrows, painful arrows of betrayal in my chest. I walk around with heavy clouds of rain behind my eyeballs. My soul is exhausted from sobbing in the wee hours of the night. My smile is shaky from faking. My walk is weak. Forgive me for not being able to write you beautiful pieces anymore. I have been on a journey… A journey of torture. A journey that has killed my passions. 

But today I feel good to see you again. I feel alive. I feel hope. Which is the saddest, because the pain will be fresh again. So there, this is the happiest Poem have written in while. I don’t write beautiful pieces anymore.

~Me. “