Draft: For the Sake of the Sender
the sheets are blank,
rumpled, crumpled
as is my mind
ink blotted, refusing to write
because it makes it real
but the fingers tap,
the neurons click
so much wanting
to be written
in that notebook
all stored
in crevices
of the mind,
in chambers
of the heart
refusing to be written
saying it loud,
so loud
that no one hears
an ear pitched sound
that only caves echo
in time, maybe
since this is
for the sake of the sender
maybe one day
it shall finally be written
* inspired by Alex Woodard
Copyright © Kaye S- | Year Posted 2013
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