To the bluest hue of my pen,

Is there enough ink that I could spill?

that can make a river trail

that could remind him of the depths of this ocean

-that the only current it carries is him.

May the droplets explain that he is the very reason for my ink to be graced on pages.

I have tried other colors

and

I

only

write

with

blue

because the other colors didn't take me there.

They were counterfeit pens that couldn't allow the left handed calligraphy of my soul to expand.

I

only

write

in

blue

Because no matter how many copies are done

there is still the

original

masterpiece

that was slowly cultivated to consume the pages that have been so empty

Devoted to the

grip and

conviction in this pen

I have

loved

you

since my writing was looking for a purpose and

you

happened to redefine it.

Now under lock and key

only left with displays of

what is

I can only write about you in

future and

present tense

-the purpose defined has no end

Incomprehensible words seem to escape my lips

to break down

why second choices usually

don't have the same hue

yet I cannot choose for the

black of your ink

to remain as us

if there is a she who makes your ink incline to other pages

I've been at this writer's block

and with weary heart in hand

left you in the crossroads.

I know the journey that must be tread.

Still I'd fight for you

if you'd ask me to perform the prose

to win the competition yet

currently this is just the deepest diction on display

May she erase the blue in your black

as fingers could never stray of its point of origination

I differ because I'd come for you

if she ever didn't reach the depth of your soul

where i have etched my signature in Braille

so only you can comprehend the poetry

Forget me not blue hue as I watch black ink trail away

Droplets of my blue left in the stains

I've left onto your sleeves.

For I always write in blue

so a path is left

if you ever need clues of how to return

to the pages engraved with your penmanship

I've loved you for too long to be filled with greed or ego

-yet selfishly living on the hope of my immortality to live on

in the threads of your notes of love.

I will always write in blue

-as you are the one I want/ed forever with-

My only muse