Love Poetry

When Words Give Out

My words are giving out on me-

Crumbling under the weight of your image in my mind,

Falling apart through the bright white abyss of paper

Into the broken lines symbols and circles that made them up. 

They fall like pebbles in a murky pond,

Becoming less tangible as they approach their destination-

Coins in the fountain losing their luster to algae and lusty fingers.

What are words on paper?

Black shapes on white bleach.

And every word you write I hear,

Your voice your sigh your screech and love

And each image you show like as if I was just born to know

And feel and own these as my own through your eyes.

I can hear your voice and see your swaying corpse on stage

Feeling your beautiful pale skin and sliding your hands up your legs,

Brushing your dress as you feel,

Your beautiful brown eyes closed behind blinds to feel solitude

And feel solely emotion from the floor to your feet,

Fingers to skin, sweat to brow.

You to me. Me to paper.

Your name scrawled across my folded paper heart,

Written and hidden and held up in the back pocket of my timid soul,

Wrinkled and wilting and wounded and wondering when you’ll open me up

Break me out like a note-

Like a little paper prison with bars darker than the richest ink

A prisoner more starving and translucent than the poorest man.

Please pull me out and read my mind

I can’t read my handwriting and I fear I’m falling behind