Why I Can'T Write
I have carved seventeen years into this notebook
Dragging Mondays across the paper
Saturdays exploding from the nib
It is not enough now
To take a hair from his head and rest it on a page
Sacrificing my heart to the wind
Praying she might not take it from me
It is not enough now
To take a reflection of his smile and scatter it across these sordid lines
In the hope that they might trap it for me
And not keep it for themselves
I want to pen myself into him
Carve myself deep into his skin
Curl into myself
And live there
In the space between his heart and lungs.
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