I don't know what to write about.
insperation flows from my fingertips like an endelles river of poetry.
I can't seem to find my usaul spark today,
it seems lost
in a world of consant entertainment and over reactions.
I need to snap out of it
find that voice inside me
that tells me where to step in the forest, so I make as little sound as possible
that sings me to sleep every night, when it's quiet as hell and any abnoramal sound freaks the s#!t out of me
that's there for me, when nobody else is
that first whispered those thoughts in my ear
that made me look at you
that led me to a friend
someone I can trust
and laugh with
and cry with
and whisper secrets to when the get to heavy for my soul alone.
the voice that led me to you
and the voice
that started this war
and taught me
just how unpridictable
and unsteady our emotional lives truly are.