Calligraphy pens
Will mark every letter of your name
On the stale pages of a notebook
Taken inside to dry
After the pouring rain
Every line of our story
Smudged and out of place
Barely able to be read
Even when the curtains are drawn
And your hands form shadows on my page
Ink spilled on the grains of the table
Filling holes with black
And leaving a mess to be cleaned up
While the weight of your laugh
Breaks the final strings attached
My hope was set in between the lines
In the blank spaces of what you meant to say
But never could find the voice to
Believing that if I only planted in the right soil
The seeds would grown through the winter
And I never meant to be optimistic
Offering chance after chance
Praying for change in exchange of my forgiveness
Though now I see
It never started right to begin with
We were like a song with the chorus left out
Nothing there to hold it together
But still having the potential
To be the song that will ease you to sleep at night
The perfect love lullaby of our time
