when did i stop writing?
it wasn’t when everything became okay.
when did i stop writing?
my never ending thoughts, they never went away.

when did i stop cataloging
all the hopes and fears i had
when did i stop thinking in rhymes
was it when my life didn’t make me so miserably sad?

when did i stop feeling
like i wasn’t actually alone?
and what if it doesn’t work out?
i’ll lose myself, my heart, the man that makes me feel at home.

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