as the pen tattoos the notebook page
bringing permanence to words
curiously i watch it sway
hoping one day to have the nerve
to say what's only written

but life got too busy
days to months
months to years
all the while
expecting time
to somehow slow down

and i was doing well!
well enough to hide i wasn't
ease concerns of those that learned
fine inside to never mind

scratch one thousand poems
never worth the ink
words that once were caramel
no longer quite so sweet
memories of us
that have not aged well
now reside
in the starless part of mind only
i do not visit them any longer
i'd imagine they are lonely

and i'd of loved for you to need me
but it seems
that's not the case
never needed you to love me
but it seems
we've lost our place
and it's times like these
that i believe
maybe i shouldn't stick my heart out
so far

I wonder
Does the pen look down at ink
And say
"Look what I have written!"