My remedy, my poison

I went through a period of time where writing was a struggle

I've always sought after this method for pain and sadness

I struggled because for once I couldn't let It out because all of it was solved or so I thought

I became happy and writing became hard

The words I lied brought happiness itself

How could I lose it?

I found it later trust me

I found it when he walked out

I've never seen walking look so easy

There could've been a cloud lifting him to his next destination

Mine landed in a strangers bed

Trying to feel as if I still mattered

Pathetic

We all get to this point

Or at least I hope you don't

But if you do

My dear I'm sorry

-I don't know what to do either