These words degrade the paper as they write
By failing to suppress and condem desires
That spill and dry with spotty ballpoint ink
And coagulate like blood as hope expires.

She will never grace these words with her gaze.
Or smear them with her crying, or quell
The wails of a soul in isolation
Fighting mobs of anguish, losing to the riot.

This page is shunned by unused potentail
Reflecting the losses of the scribe’s inactions.
Worth nothing in its pretense of meaning,
Gaining no ground in it’s pre emptive retractions.

His vain musings resolve no consequence
In their ineffectual deliberations-
Cognitive seizures, repeated scribblings,
Redrafted lines, detracting considerations.

They are born of barely creative fits,
Poorly guarded symptoms of hypergraphia
Going unread into insignificance,
Words like chaff growing increasingly chaffier.

Semantics and syntax will never be
Twinned by her interest in what has been written here.
He will not be spared the disparity,
She will not read to see or understand to care.

Written by Raucous