Songs of the past

Blank Pages

I've stopped writing.

Not because I have no inspiration

But because you have stolen the words from my mouth.

My lips are dry, split and pried piece by piece

Plucked from my tongue

My brain is left

With nothing- empty, lifeless words float from within me

I feel how i think and i think how i feel

But the words to describe who i am

Were taken from me when you left

That was the day my heart

From the cage within me

Stopped.

My voice has gone sour

And the song from my lungs

Breathe meaningless melodies

A tune left stale and high strung

I am a bird with no song

A butterfly with no wings

A mother with no child

A compass with no direction

I've stopped writing.

Not because I wanted to

But because you spilled the ink over my blank pages. 

-E.s