Lack of Writing

And I'd have given you

This world, if you'd said please

From the valleys

To the great mountain peaks

Hire man after man

To engineer a plan for the sea

Yes, I'd give you this Earth

If you said the one word that I need

I could author a book

Of the things that I wished you had been

And between all the words

You'd think I couldn't have fallen again

But with every line is a time to remind me

A fourth of my life that I spent on demising

With you

If only we knew

The windowsill serves a good spot

For the ones left alone

As the light, soaking through the storm panes

Hits the tears on the sweatshirt you loaned

Is it time to admit

That we cannot commit

To this codependently continuous orbit?

Is it time to admit

The end of us?

I think it's high time

We take a good look at ourselves

'Cause I can't tell

If the pens that we are writing in

Are running out of ink

Or if they just aren't working right now

And this lack of writing

Is looking like the end

As we scribble blank lines

Until the paper wears thin

And it rips at the seams

Like the hearts searching for

The meaning of love