I speared you with a black-ink pen.
I tried to balance the weight
of our weare-worn shoulders.
Tried to counter it with beauty
and hopefulness , with my hopes,
persistence & with my dark love.
They came to see it in hundreds,
Droves, of similarly seeking
hope and a reason to continue.
Reasons to love, even when it
hurts. Reasons to try when the
vast weight of differences 'tween
us can't be fixed by adding
a single strike of strength
through the middle. Our love
wasn't strong enough for poetry
to save. It crumbled to nothing
but the paper beneath the pen, and
my half broken voice whispering a
tale of our forgotten, broken, love.