all my old notebooks are collecting dust
the ink in my favorite pen has dried up
my sketch paper is yellowing, wrinkling
i've been spending all my time with you.
if it sounds like i am complaining,
let me try to announce this more clearly.
all my inspiration comes from you
and instead of drawing little hearts
i've been listening to my own beat
and it has been screaming your name.
every line i write is all about you
so why don't i just start living it?
i'll put down these pens and begin,
i'll begin to live the story i've written.