Pieces

I promised you everything
that night that you told me
that I belonged to you
that I am yours.
I wanted it so badly
to simply belong to someone
but foryou to want me
that is beyond
what I could ever dare to dream.
So I promised you everything
that night.
I would give myself to you
every single piece.
But I was so broken,
so shattered
and there was nothing
I could ever do
to pull myself back together.
Even now I find
little pieces
lost in the fall
that still aren't yours.
All I can do
is give them back to you
and let your hands
continue to mend me.

Pen in Hand

I tried to write you a letter
the pen there in my hand
full of the ink of written words
and the blank paper before me
ready to receive my strokes
of a message I had no intent to send,
I realized that I have nothing to say.
Not anymore.
No words are left to describe
my exasperation that you're still here.
It's as if you've crept under my skin:
everything reminds me of you
and my mistakes.
Did you even have an afterthought?
And now I resign with pen in hand
and blank paper in front.
There are some things you will never know.
What's been engraved on the tablet
of my mind with your picture beside it.
And I,
I will never understand where such logic
as great as yours even
turned into the nonsensical events
that led me here staring at this blank paper
pen in hand.