May 13, 2013 12:45 A.M.

I guess I dreamed that I’d told you this

But now that you’re gone

I’ve always wanted to write you

A poem or a song.

And though they’re just words

To the paper and pen

I still don’t mind writing

Since ink makes a good friend.

Time ate away at me

But not you

Which is good

Or else we’d both be half eaten

Crumbles left over from our

Cookie personas.

I can’t write the way I want to

I only write the way I know how.

Repetition lacks creativity

How much ingenuity does it take

To write a blasted poem.

I sometimes wish that I was better

Than this lump of a person

Who’s only motivated to write

Feelings and remember carefully

Preserved memories from months ago

When you’re not around.

Stars blossomed across the midnight sky.

Those are artful words you can eat off the page.

Don’t really, you should stick with food.

I’m still working on getting to that level.

For now I have my poetic attempts that I

Mull over whilst tumbling thoughts and soaking

In the bathtub. Give me time.

I’ll write you a declaration of love worth reading.

I just need words, more words, better words.

Grander words.

Because I love you

Doesn’t wholly encompass the feelings swelling my heart.