My pen etches Your name deeper within my heart. With each stroke the pages yell Your name into an oblivion.
But You.
You would never hear the cries that were crying out Your name. I show You my world and You can’t tell me Your favorite parts.
You witness the beat of my heart, but can’t rap the words to my song. I doubt that You care, and You just stare. I preach to the world, but You never saw me reach for Your hand. I shed a tear for Your sorrows, but You never cared about who You hurt.
I write this for You, and You could never see me mouth Your name.
But still, Your name resides on my heart. The black ink stained on the red surface, that has only seen pain, and shall hope the best for Your heart.
What I’ve been trying to say is, I loved You. You used to inspire love. But now I only hope You find it.
This was for,
You.

Grasping my pen, i ground myself.
I start to breathe as the nib glides across the canvas.
The ink drops, forming lines, curves & more,
Breathing life into the paper,
My heart starts to beat,
giving me a sense of life.
As i form,
Letters into words,
Words into sentences,
Sentences into paragraphs,
As i try to graph, illusions into reality.
Trying to cling on,
To the little glimer of HOPE,
That you provide me NOW & THEN.

Lyre on her lap
Unsheathed the quill from inkpot
History now dries