Married to the Pen

In my moment of....

pain

joy

anger

sadness

loneliness

depression

guilt

envy

and sorrow

I have no one to share it with

Except a piece of paper and a fine tip

Inanimate objects don't talk you may say

But the pen talks through me

For every word I write

For every ounce of ink I spill

The empty space inside of me is temporarilly filled

Until I find that significant other

One I can share sunny and rainy days with

And even introduce to my mother

Hmm, on second thought haha

I can't wait till that one comes around again

But for now...

I take my contemporary vows with the pen