Nothing new
My first poem is being published
And it's about you

Not a fresh word to write
You continue to sleep in Indiana
And I'm here every night

My stanzas are dry
It's hard to write about heartbreak
Without the terror in sight

My rhymes come up short
The sound of your voice is slipping my mind
While it used to be what I couldn't ignore

Nothing's new, I swear
These last two years have passed sufficiently
Without you to bend me into squares