I wish I could write another song or another poem for someone special. I wish I could write something worth reading, something that will give joy to the one who reads it. I wish I could write how beautiful the world is, how blue the sky is and how pretty the clouds are. But like a dog, all I can see is shades of grey in everything.

I wish I could enjoy watching the stars at night and search for the constellations but i must be turning blind because I couldn’t see the sparks. The stranger must be right, my eyes are missing their sparks.

I wish I could enjoy watching anything else than murder series. Wish one day I’d find the feelings I am missing. Because right now, I could not feel anything: disgust, anger, sadness, happiness. I wish one day I would choose to watch a romantic comedy film over a gruesome film.

But I know I would never be the same again, nor write the same way again. I can not be the same person because she’s already gone.

The one posting this is just someone who likes to drink and get high.

 

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