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I wanted to write you a poem
but I seem to be failing at everything lately.
I believed I'd always have art
what did I think you were?   

I wanted to write you a poem
that would capture your essence
but I could write nothing.

Turns out I can't remember the sound of your voice.   
I never wanted to write anybody a poem
until I saw you cry
and realised art
is beautiful in its vulnerability.
You are beautiful in your vulnerability. 

It's raining and I'm holding my breath.   
I wanted to write you a poem
but I don't know how to write
with a pen that's run out of ink.
Where did it all go?   

I wanted to scream at you,
instead I decided to write a poem.
Turns out you have also taken that with you.
I would apologise about my failure,
but.   

I wanted to write you a poem
but it's still raining
and I'm mesmerized by it.
The walls in my room are scratching my skin
the ceiling won't stop spelling your name
and I still can't remember the sound of your voice.   

I wanted to write you a poem
and ended up walking to your doorstep
for inspiration.
You've taken everything.
These scribbles are
all
I
have
left.    

Image from Tumblr: QueenOfK

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