journal · poetry

The Story

I’m buying you back with broken fingers
and wasted time.
My cracked lips speak your name
and in that moment,
for once I feel alright.
All the lonely words and lonely time
drift away
in this place and in my way, it’s just me and you today.

Just give my hands the paper and pen
I’ll spell our lives out on the page.
Words set ablaze
with all our long passed days
and loveless nights.
All I’ve ever wanted is to make things right
and sleep better at night.

But somewhere along the line I lost all the pages.


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