losing you

||: losing you
was like losing my favorite pen.
now the words won’t flow right
rhythm skips.
lines remain empty.
I curl up at night
with a blank journal,
black Bic poised
scratch out a phrase
remember what it looked like
in blue.

the color of the ink
shouldn’t matter.
the way my fingers curl ‘round
the sleek plastic casing
feels the same
but I know its not.
I pull open the desk drawer
shuffle papers around
hope it will appear.
check the jar
on my desk:
pencils without points,
erasers chewed.