I’ve dedicated pages to you.
I speak in verses, laughter, and mindless syllables.
My speech is what I show you, but my silence is what keeps you around.
My words I plot.
My words I love.
I give them each a history book, a reason to cry at night, and forgive them of their sins.
Did you know these words carry my sins?
Sin pulsates through each black line,
and that’s why my words are so shy.
That’s why they hide on the corners of notebook paper, and the back of my hand.
My beautiful sins that I mask with pretty patterns–I’ve dedicated pages of them to you.
Silent hymns of praise and lament.
Sung at the same time.
The collision of emotion causes the pen to shake,
but this is where the words are reminded of their duty.
I may want to forget you
but my words won’t let me.
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