Intensity in a writer is easy to spot
its in the callus on the finger that braces the pen
Its in the way she cannot breathe
when she looks at you
or until she finishes that line.
It's in the way you lose her for hours
as she writes, or reads, or paints you in poetry.
Its the way she tries to find words
that work better than I love you
Its that her love letters are 4 pages long
its the way she laments not being able to convey
exactly how she feels
its that sometimes her words don't seem to be constructed of ink
but life blood.
and that she is not flesh and bone
but paper and ink
She'll leave bruises with teeth
scratches with too short nails
because for just a moment she wants to consume you
we are all like that
we just want to be in your blood
to infiltrate your mind only for a moment.
It's in that she'll always remember the things that hurt you
every scar you've ever shown.
but not what she had for breakfast
it's her propensity for addiction
she'll say you make her want to be better
do not doubt her
you are the sky, the ink well, the page...
you are every beautiful passage
she doesn't love anything the way she loves words
you are words.... you are the thing itself.
you are the only thing even close in beauty
to the page.

Though this world may shiver and shake
Feel the quake from its mistakes
Not knowing what it's supposed to do
Spin through space without a clue

Show up empty show up late
Where every day seems a blind date
With no idea or master plan
Filling in the best it can

Tilt either direction in mid twirl
Through it all you'll still be my girl

While most alive are shoved aside
To a place there's no place to hide
There is you and me through it all
Each other's net lest we should fall

No matter what the world pours out
In its emptiness in its daily doubt
I'll take all of you that I'm allowed
Soon enough to find that out

You are both my sickness and my cure
And through it all you'll always be my girl

I'll hold you with all I've got
Every move and every thought
Love will be strong in my stand
Giving over all I can

Where no two days are the same
In the form of early in the shape of late
With the world no longer spit and shine
And no green grass on either side

You will always be my hidden pearl
And through it all you'll always be my girl