i can't even find the words
to explain
how it feels
when your passion
for poetry,
for drawing,
art,
theatre,
singing,
leaves
so i'm left
with nothing.
i love poetry
i love it
i wish i could love it like i used to
i wish i could be who i was back then
i miss the old me
ok so this is unrelated but the guy i wrote poems abt? i don't like him anymore. (i'm pretty sure ****). i think i might like someone else but like idk it might just be me panicking