How long can I sit here pretending I’m alive, ignoring the fact that no heart beats inside.
That line literally just popped into my head. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but I used to write poetry. I was damn good too, but I haven’t written in years. I recently realized that it’s because I haven’t been sad enough to write. Happy poetry just… shouldn’t be a thing. Hopeful? Sure. Happy? No.
Which means for the first time in years, I’m sad enough to start writing poetry again. This leads me to another question.
Am I just “missing” JD because I’m craving a reason to be sad, thus giving me motivation to write again?
There’s a show where the main character keeps getting themselves into shit, and their friend tells them it’s because they’re a writer, and writers crave experiences. (The L Word maybe?) Anyway, maybe that’s all this is.
I’m too scared to put any of my poetry on here. I can’t risk people stealing it and claiming it as theirs. It’s too personal. My poetry is more intimate and close to my heart then any regular old post I’ll ever make on here. Maybe one day.