I dreamed of the day
someone would write
poems for me.
One of those secret dreams
that I keep to myself
like wiggling my finger
where my book would fit on a shelf.
I always thought it would be
an if, not a when, but a maybe –
maybe someone, someday
will love me enough
to spill ink in my name
and then you came, but
it’s not like I could have known
that when your words
finally poured out for me
I wouldn’t feel full to bursting
with your precious love.
I didn’t dream that on this day
my heart would be broken,
that without you I am lost,
but you should know
that when hearts are broken
words are not what matter most.
81/365 – A Poem a Day For a Year
