Scrabbled

And in this silence
I am with my weakness of form
Unwoven, undone and crying
Cowering and so fragile to thee
The pillaging, scrabbling strokes
My heart pleading please.

Stroking the graphite
Piercing the paper below,
Piercing of my heart
Only to go where eagles dare
Not go.

I wrote you believing
That one more time again
With pen in hand, the last time
I ask for your forgiveness
I ask you if you loved me,

Do you…it’s all I ask…
I love you, I do
Please, only un-silence me.

Yet in the perfection among the arts,
Honor reflects such in another aspect
My heart flutters in syncopation to all,
Laughter is ceased, perhaps feeling
Confused. A mind scrabbled.

Paint and pen know not what
Of wondrous writings by hand
The joyous moments once created,
And how much you meant to me.

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