Tag: poet

Like a lover, passionate and familiar;

I will fill you.

Like I have so many others before you.

You give me butterflies.

I think about you

when I’m not holding you open

between my hands.

I miss you

when I’m not caught between

these soft pages

And the rough tip of my pencil.

Are all of you my asylums?

Forming crazy words and ramblings

On tens of thousands of blank pages.

I think I’m held captive in these lines.

My entire life scrawled and thrown down

In graphite and ink blots

For people to decipher.