Timing

I leaned my head back, I looked at your lips. Unsure what I want –  Perhaps just a kiss? Maybe your eyes Were telling the truth That way deep inside, You wanted it, too. Despite, there we stayed With nothing to say An empty I can’t, But thinking Please Stay. If only we knew What

Writer’s Block

The Artist

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚝.𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.𝙽𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍.𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚜,𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎.𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢.𝙾𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛,𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝙾𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚟𝚊𝚜.𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜.𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.𝚃𝚑𝚎