Talentless.

I once created literary art, With blood drawn from my broken heart. The words flowed endlessly, How could it not? With an abundance crimson fluid gushing out uncontrollably, As the cracks in my poor love centre elongated. Because of this, I was declared a lyricist in her prime. But I have watched my creativity sublime, …

What Do I Do Now?

What do I do now? With this repertoire of unfinished poetry All of these plans for the future What the hell should I do With the messages I typed up but never sent And the ‘I love you’s” I said internally The me too’s and the please stay’s I can’t finish them because I can’t …