In my moment of....
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
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