A Cadaverous Tale
I miss writing.
So I guess I miss you.
I'd made peace with laying us to rest,
But then my ink dried up
And all I've longed to do
Is paint you with my delicate words,
But they just wouldn't come.
I wish I could rouse you from your slumber.
But a kiss would not be enough
to reignite a death in the heart.
So here I am, stuck chasing magic.
Searching for the miracles
That lay in your kisses and arms.
Yearning for the words
That spilt from me so freely
When they were written in your name
I wish I could write,
Without writing of you.