Maybe, this is homesick
I haven’t written anything in a month
I’ve been only thinking about the strangers I just met
I feel like I’m living someone else’s skin
And I am longing for the taste I used to loved
I miss everything
I can’t cope with the fact that I need to stick with this newness
I can’t bare the thought of losing myself
It feels pointless and hopeless
Why am I keep going?
Was it because of you? Was it for you?
I don’t want to lose myself in search for yours
How long am I going to last
How long can I hold everything together
It’s like, in just a matter of second, everything would fall apart
My hands are tired
And I am all by myself
Trying to make it work, I don’t even know the reason why
My future is there, like a blueprint
With its details and plans
Made by someone I never understand
I miss poetry, I miss how it sound
I miss how it feels against the tip of my fingers as I type
I miss how it looks like upon a blank paper
I miss the musicality I used to have
I miss the lyrics that understands me, and you
I miss the sound of it all around me
I miss the pointless walk
And the movies
And the endless conversations
Was it because if you?
Was it for you?
Or is it just plain for myself?
- S -