Every time I write
I’m filled with a feeling of this is the last
After this, I’m done and I’m complete
Just to find my veins filled with ink again
Dripping from my fingertips
Caressing your lips with all the unsaid things
So, disastrously impatient
Filled with incredulous amounts of self doubt
But, it seems you are too
Truce?
Funny how when we stop yelling
You and I both start to speak
Stop and wait for the other
There’s just nothing to say sometimes
And we’ve been at this for quite some time
Calling all skeletons
Hidden away by time