Real and Soft

So I drew paper, and ink that flows
That perhaps if I wrote it down
With cold steel between my fingers
That it would be more real, more raw

Could I put in words the things you made me feel?
For sadness in me, there is aplenty
And a little mean streak

With your voice warm, like melted butter on hot toast
And your words like candy, syrup made from something sweeter than corn
They make me feel things, giggle, not scorn
That is when I know something is terribly wrong

For I miss it, before you leave
My brain racks up and tries to capture parts of you within me
Hoard up these memories before they’re formed
A star of David on your slight Rudolph-red nose

But the words on paper, bone or skin
Feel so incomplete, feel so unnecessary
They’re platitudes, can never say what I want to say
So forget words, tear parchment, let the ink not stay

Let me touch you in spots, real and soft
Pass out in my arms, cuddled and loved
Forget all you had, all your were
And to sun say, do not come