I used to think that I lived in a world of love and poetry 

Where I could portray how butterflies feel like they’re moving around my body when you make me smile 

How I used to believe that it was us against the world 

And could cave ourselves out of rocks that caused us to fumble out

I used to think that I lived in a world of love and poetry 

Where I could portray how butterflies feel like they’re moving around my body when you make me smile 

How I used to believe that it was us against the world 

And could cave ourselves out of rocks that caused us to fumble out of love 

Just when I 

Just when I started to fall in love with poetry again 

After fumbling and falling into the emptiness of love and art

I began to find purpose again 

Just when poetry started to communicate with me again

I remembered

I barely have any art left

The paintings have turned into blank pages

The songs no longer have lyrics

Just meaningless sounds

And poetry… seems to be nothing but pick up lines

I remembered

That I’m left with nothing

So how can I write about a love that does not exist

Anymore