dear words,

i want to be poetic.
i feel like i was once
before living in the dark.

words, like a loyal pet,
can they be ignored for a time
but still hold their love true to you
when you let them in from the cold
and they curl up and settle on your lap?

i seem to remember
the words nipping,
biting at my ankles
begging to come out.

throw the ball
and the words will follow,
fly across the lawn
and back to you
over and over again
through summers and pages
and freezing cold walks
in the snow.

oh, but words, too, can be cruel.
no one ever said they had to
understand when you spend days
with your girlfriend's new camera.
you come home and they can
smell it on your fingertips
and they walk away with their
meaning between their legs.
the jealousy makes them hate you
and you let them out one day
and they never come back.

maybe if i wear my apology like a noose,
a collar of my own, for all to see.
maybe if i walk the same streets.
maybe if i throw the ball,
they'll come back to me.

i thought i was poetic once.

dear words,
this is my apology.
i miss you.
love,
t