I wonder why I don't write anymore.

I remember that my writing used to be such a big part of me. I used to walk around school composing poems in my head...voicing them out loud so I knew what the words sounded like in rhythmic combination and metre, basically looking like I was talking to myself.

I'd spend every free period that Cikgu Masni gave us (Sivik), just writing poetry. In this old notebook I had, I used to just jot down an idea and then start writing.

I wrote at the gym, on the treadmill (She Means Nothing To You), at church camp (The Pink Angel), conceived ideas in church and RAN home to write them (The Greatest Treasure), woke up at 12 am because I'd had an idea (tons of them, actually)...

And remember that one time in F1, when I wrote a poem during an exam and was stupid enough to PASS IT AROUND....and Mr. Sim caught me, read it, smiled a little then tried to put on his Stern voice? Hahaha, everyone loves a tiny 10 year old writing about racism and child abuse, eh?

I think that's how my poetry developed.

People who wrote poems were smart and deep and what not....and it wasn't too difficult to make things rhyme, so why not? Why not grab some attention for my seeking heart and show everyone how cleverly I was?

I wonder when that started to fall away.

My last poem was about Sarah, this girl I knew who stripped at a party with no shame whatsoever. That was two months ago. Apparently, I can still make things rhyme.

Why don't I want to anymore?

I still get inspired, I suppose....but I blog about those things now, and even that is slowly tapering off.

I'm a lot more popular and social and happy and accepted now, and I'm going places in life with my newly discovered potential.

But part of me wishes I was still the fat lonely kid with the beautiful words running through her soul.

I just don't hear the music anymore...and I wish I could reconnect with that kid somehow and ask her why she's being so quiet.

Queen Sana at 9:59 PM