She becomes the poetry that we as writers write
So warm and gentle, hot like fire
Fiery and magnetic-pierces my heart with desire
And spills from heartbreak the words of me-my light

From the beginning of it all, from the start of the poem
She may have thought that this story was about her
I don’t know if that’s the case-subject image became blank
The light that was shown from me did the searching
Traveled through the storm
But the idea of this girl still became a blur

She becomes the story that I write
So interesting, so full of detail, filled with life, and yet so compelling
Captivating and motivating-she entices my mind
With every waking moment from the story that she herself is telling

The light returns back to me
With a story of its own to tell me
It tells of this girl who happened to have always been in back of me
Never once on my own turned to see who it happened to be
Never thought I had to-I’ll give my reason why
I’ve always wrote of one in a story-one who caught my eye
She becomes what I write-she becomes my poetry
She becomes my light and my destiny

She becomes everything that I hoped she would be
Reaching out to grab her hand
I come to realize that she's been here all along
Never been non-existent, never been behind the shadows
She's been here once again playing her daily song.

The light turned her into the poetry that I choose to read
Never wanting to put her down, never wanting to let her go
I never want to stop listening to what she has to say
Because she's the story that I want to read each and every day.