Forgot my songs

after you left.

Lines went a blur,

rhythms had gone wrong.

I forgot my songs

the day you left.

Words stinging in

like the bees spinning around.

flowing down endless tears,

blurring ink smears.

I lost my voice

in the middle of song.

Forgot my songs,

forgot all words.....

"I hate it, find it hideous, loathsome. I have built it up . I am letting it ruin my whole life. My reason is leaving me, and I want to get out of this."

― Sylvia Plath