pencils

crack

the wood hits the paper

splinters.

i feel like the word splinter

cracked.

crack

my story stops

for a moment

i cannot write with a broken pencil

i cannot feel with a broken heart.

get up

go sharpen it.

fixed.

go back to writing

why is it easier to fix a pencil

than a heart?

maybe because the tree that made the pencil is dead

so it cannot help whether or not it gets fixed.

crack

it breaks again

too much anxiety to get up again

and what's the point?

it'll break again anyways

like my heart

so why even love?

because she's there

looking at me from across the room

and then she's in front of me

offering me her pencil

as i offer her my heart

one broken, one whole

who's to say which is which?