to write is to breathe
Every time I hold her in my hands
I cant help but take her to the lined ballroom floor,
It is there together we dance
our moves;and express myself more intimately than before.
sometimes she's dressed as a BIC, white tube, blue
ready to give birth to my sadness
she alone can bring forth hidden eternal truth
other times shes plain as rain, a papermate no.2
her heads all frazzled from repeated erasure
yet she's ever ready to capture my feelings
as if on cue.
She's been more loyal than any lover,
and she's almost always at my side
ready to capture the moments
in every breath I can dare to write.
through the tough teens of my high school years
the drug use and the bullying
She's been my counselor and my confidant
and its only in her arms; my dreams we're coloring.
Brilliant dreams, amid bold events,
my lifes story in blended words and hues
she's the paintbrush to my picasso
I'm her Leonardo; shes my muse.
I write because I’ve been romanced
I write because I’ve lost more than I’ve yet won
but the more I sit here typing with her
the more I realize I cant yet finish what I’ve begun.
To try to illustrate this passion, or share an ember of this flame
is akin to singing a love song, to a person, without a name.
The words pour from my heart
like a pot of deep steamed tea
mixed with a little smile,
a creamy hyperbole
add a little sweetness,
of a true experience from life
and youve got a cup of the finest poetry,
a keyboard could breathe
Or would ever dare to dream or write.
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