You are sapped.
You have stopped drawing,
And it’s a little like you’ve stopped breathing.

You seem determined to soak yourself
And rip apart the fibres of this notebook
You are paper thin, intent upon disintegration
And sure that I am the one holding you underwater.

We have dissolved;
I wonder how we have become
Nothing more than a sketch of what we used to be

So, perhaps its my fault
For painting my pigments on someone else
But darling you seemed content to look the other way,
To run the tap and let us wash away.

Even so, you were the most beautiful picture I was part of;
But you have stopped drawing,
And it’s a little like you have stopped breathing.

a/n: I don't know what's been happening to you lately.