Day Five: Scribbles

Scribbles

Writing on a computer
is lonely. Typing in words
only to backspace as if
I never thought it,
felt it,
or want to say…

Ideas are erased and revised.
Sometimes for the better,
for the worse,
or forgotten.

No longer do I carry a notebook
with scribbling of a teenager,
talking about eternal beauty,
chaotic angels, or mindless anarchy.
No longer do I have a pen scratching out
words over and over and over and over
again.

 

No longer do I keep a binder full of
half written love poems with our names etched inside the cover.
No longer do I look at your name for inspiration,
or think about what I want to say to you.
Maybe that’s why everything I’ve written since then
are just scribbles compared to what I used to write for you.