AS LONG AS I AM ABLE TO WRITE...

I was hoping to find tranquility;

instead my head is going crazy.

I write

just to write, because I love it,

it beats talking to myself.

I mean everyone talks to themselves,

“once in a while”

but when you start answering yourself

HMMM.

Ever since I could remember

writing has been my passion;

but lately I can’t concentrate,

my thoughts are elsewhere,

it’s like my heart is not 100 % there,

I feel incomplete.

The voices

that once echo within me

are fading,

vanishing into that void

we call solitude,

and I can’t help but cry.

I miss you,

and although

I know this is the end

I can’t help but wonder

was there ever a beginning.

So I will pick up my pen and

I will write

as long

as I am able to write.