Written on April 14th, 2015

it’s easy to write sad poems;
when you’re not around, of course I want to make you exist on paper
but why would I want to share my happy moments with a pen
instead of you?
I’m hypocritical –
I love writing, but writing does not see me when I am lovable
it sees me when I am lonely, when I’m ugly,
when you’re gone

to say you know me better than my notebooks is an extraordinary truth
not even my eraser has seen my mistakes like you
because some things can’t be written –
they have to be whispered into ears
or spoken to brown eyes or
shared in unobscured silence
and not the finest of pens could touch my soul
like you

because writing, it seems, can do everything
but love can do even more