I do a lot of writing

while in odd places

or waiting for the bus.

I do a lot of writing

when my heart is in a billion pieces

over a boy I never knew.

I do a lot of writing

while I try to paint something beautiful

but all that comes from my fingertips

is a dusty bouquet of dandelions.

I tried to do a lot of writing

when you told me you love me



but my heart could bear the weight

and my fingertips could not produce the

magnificence that you held in your mind.

My writings all **** now

but I'm perfectly okay with that



if that means I can keep you in my sweater pocket.