A cryptic gibberish.
Jan 20, 2022
Winter nights are for bittersweet feeling, almost nostalgic. Writing poetry feels like a long-lost hobby. Words are not visiting me as they used to; maybe I am not feeling things enough to convert them into art. Feelings form an ambiguous pattern inside my mind, a cryptic gibberish.
“Those who escape their agony; never let it out, I worry, where do they keep it?” I used to put my feelings into words. Now, I write to decipher what I feel! So, I pen down my feelings in an abrupt way.
//a day where I feel nothing or something, IDK.
