When a Writer Falls in Love

I've been staring at my pen and paper for an hour now. Frustration is starting to get through me as words seem to be hiding from me because I can't find any to write down in. Actually no, I just can't accept the words my mind is dictating me. I refuse to accept the ideas and memories running through my mind because I'm getting tired of it. I've been doing it for ages that I'm so done with it myself. Or I thought I should be, at least.

I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you, being the subject of my poems and all the articles I wrote. I'm tired of your face in my head. How I wish I never knew your name so it won't keep ringing to my ears. I hate myself for allowing you to invade even this side of me. I hate how you rule my kingdom as a writer. How come you still rule it when you already walk away long ago? I am so done with you, and I will keep on telling that to myself. Now I want you completely gone. With no any traces behind, like no one was ever inside the castle. Like I never let you in.

But I feel so sorry for myself. I have a kingdom in my head, but I forgot you got me universe in my heart.

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