One day, you decided I would speak no more. So I sat as you sawed my tongue and sewed my lips, "For proper measure," you said. You smiled at your finished work. I couldn't. You see, My lips were sewed together, too tight Like the pen I held, hidden in my hand.
You were my greatest and worst love, my high and low, my summer and winter, my day and night, my pain and relief. You were both an exaggeration and an understatement. You were everything at once and nothing at all at the same time.