Thank y

the pen gives
it’s final gasp
a stuttering arc
against the page

i’m left mid-thought
hovering between lines
yet somehow grounded
in it’s completion

a quiet joy
to hold in my grasp
the vessel that gave
everything it could

the truths it spilled
the lies it whispered
the worlds it built
and burned

now it can rest
speechless
but never silent

i hold the pen
its weightless shell
and thank it
for leaving me
full.