I've lost you.

You can not keep a most precious gift locked away
You don't get to decide when to let it out to play
You don't get to say when it's safe to be seen
You do not get to say
"I love you"
Then turn and leave.

You don't get to be 

It was once what I saw in you
It was there only awhile
It was the best part of you,
Once you saw what it was
You hid it away
Made me beg and beg to 
have it stay.

In that you found power
In there you found some strength
With that you brought confusion.

 for me...
there was laughter 
 ~my pain.

You didn't want my fairy tale
You never wanted the 
forever after.

Hearts should not be played.
Kisses shouldn't carry poison
Smiles shouldn't mask lies
Fingers while touching
shouldn't leave scars.

Somethings can't be reached
Somethings shouldn't be seen
I should have known...
 to see, 
Potential in you

~Was only my dream.

Writers write

The pages
waiting to be touched
hoping to be fed
desperate to feel 
the pressing from the tip of a pen

Gently moving 
one letter at a time
placing words 
into sentences
growing into paragraphs

The filling up
The turning over
the beginning again.
each page no longer white
each page finally carrying
those important words.

The way it feels to be loved so much
to be wanted all the time
to keep the eyes 
of the writer
penetrated on each word 
that fill the pages
that become 
The story...

The pen sits...
looks over at the pages
waits for the writer
to pick it up.

Remembering the feeling
of the touching of pages
what it was like to 
fill them with words.
It happened once before
It was glorious.

A day of spilling ink, politely,
in angles that made the writer smile.
The white on those pages disappeared
and ink took over.
delightfully filling up
The story...

The chair waits...
The desk wonders...

The writer walks to the room!