I realised that things get slow if you are not with me.
Without him by my side or just counting down the days to see that face again,
I lose my desire to write or express my feelings.
They are stuck in my head.
They don't want to come out.
I need to drink his soul to feel creativity again.
There's a sensation inside of me that wants to scream... It wants to fly.
He moves me.
He leads me the way to feel alive again.
I need him.
The only thing I know is that I have to be patient.
More than EVER.
Which is fucking difficult to me.
Time doesn't pass by.
The clocks have stopped for some reason.
Someone once said:
"Time flies like an arrow."
Well, in that case, mine seems to be broken.
At this point, everything seems the same.
I want my inspiration back.
Those blue eyes remember me how to paint again.
How to draw my oneiric sceneries, my fears and my paranoia.
The wetness of your lips moisturise my desire to create again.
How to see the real beauty, the details.
My stupid and nonsense things.
Please, don't ever close them.
Don't ever go away.
Because you are my inspiration.
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