He's a writers worst enemy. He'll make you despise language; adjectives have lost all meaning, and nobody would understand that the world should stop when they read the sentence "he looked at me." You'll want to dedicate your first four chapters to the way he moves. You couldn't describe his face even if you tried, and god, you've tried. You'll stay up until 4:00am in complete fury, because how the hell are you supposed to explain that you feel his voice in your heart beats. Paper couldn't possibly hold the weight of his existence, but you will die trying to transfer him there, because you know a human being like him will never happen again. He's the reason people become writers.
YOU ARE READING
Poems.
PoetryI'm not the best writer, but I like to write an awful lot. Just a couple of poems that I wrote, nothing special.
