To my late sketchbook

Oh sketchbook, I didn't see myself as a traditional artist anymore, more of a occasional doodler but when your pages ran out in the middle of quarantine, I started to understand that my love for paper and pen runs deeper than that. During the weeks where I couldn't replace you, I found myself instinctively picking you up to sketch up another idea, only to reminding myself that I cannot use you anymore. Oh how I cradled you, flipping over the previous drawings I have done during the time where you were new.

I have now got your successor, and I will make sure to appreciate it as much as I should have appreciated you.