The Struggling Writer

The struggling writer
Only holds words in her hands
And she recognises 
That it's all slipping sands
As together we hold
The paper to break 
In ink we write 
Each breath that we take 
And you come apart
Like the folds and the seams 
You could be the hero 
Or the man of my dreams
But you just stand 
On the sidelines and watch 
Tell me you don't remember 
What you forgot
As the ages they span
In decades they weave
And you've always got 
A trick or two up your sleeve
That you fool me into thinking 
So that I believe
That I am the way 
You clamber trees
And make your home 
In amongst the leaves
When I lost you 
I couldn't agree
With anything 
Anyone would say 
I would just miss you 
And hope you're okay
As silence becomes 
The new norm 
And I try my best
To keep in good form 
But I'm always wishing 
And hoping for you
I don't think you know
What you started, do you? 

Photo by Anete Lūsiņa on

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