Written in Pencil
Words scribbled across a piece of paper
I know they’re supposed to have meaning,
But they don’t.
I see your feelings hurried across a white, lined campus
Your heart written on the faded, blue lines.
I want to show sympathy,
I want to feel your hurt,
I want to understand your lyrics,
But I can’t.
The verses flood my mind like a wave,
Pushing in and pulsating out,
Forever entangling themselves in my memories.
You don’t think I remember you,
But I do.
I want to tell you I’m sorry.
I want to give you the explanation you desperately gasp for.
But as I stare at your words,
Written on this folded up piece of you,
I can’t help observing that the words aren’t permanent.
That they smudged amongst one another in the mail,
Rubbing against the constricting four-cornered prison,
Sealed with a lick.
How easily they can fade away,
Given a little distance.
Just like us.
Because we were never permanent.
We were just like your letter,
We laid our hearts on the table,
Hoping for the best future we could hold.
But we were written in pencil.