You're the ink I bleed--
pencil hitting paper,
the catharsis that I need;
you're in my erasings, all my cross-outs
constantly showing me
new perspectives and alternate routes;
you're the break

between each stanza;
every symbol I decide to make;
you're the rare poems I write in rhyme
(partly because of how
musical you are from time to time);
you're the answer to my writer's block,
making up for all those minutes
spent staring at the clock.

Most obviously, you're the reason I write today--
you're every word I've ever written
and every word I'm about to say.