You see this place.
alabaster paper tied with inky etymon
should have been your
I had been working on it for 1232 minutes;
to be exact.
words heart love
I dipped my nib deep within myself
slipping between ribbed ossein cage that guards
the most valuable item I have that no one else has even had.
I plunge the sterling tip and pull back the crimson ink mixed with briny droplets.
Then scroll the words that dance from my soul to the beat of my heart just for you.
Notes from a piano in the distance come flourishing about creating a new rhythm,
that brings together two which develop into one cadence designed just for us.
Words that flowed freely, easily to create an image for you to see and
finally come to believe I was made for you and you for me.
As the pen etches my gift onto the paper
and eventually into your own soul,
I place my lips upon the words
“forever and ever
sadly, it doesn’t seem enough
Your words clothed in armor,
wielding weapons of precision and truth,
destroy what was created for you.
A gift in the making
shredded in moments.
I look into my hands
as they cup what is left.
Just mangled pieces
of my heart.
No longer recognizable.
7 thoughts on “The Gift”
What are you doing to us here?
Well me, anyway.
This is heartbreakingly beautiful.
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How about I try something a bit happier next?
No, sweetheart, just write what is in your soul.
My broken heart is, as Paul Newman/Butch Cassidy said in a different context, a small price to pay for beauty.
Isn’t she just.
Oh, the poem, yeah, that too.
haha Always the charmer!
❤ Thank you