For Love Or Nothing

eric 22 new jersey
i h o p e t h e s e w o r d s g o a s f a r a s
t o f i n d y o u

Scribe IV: The Fourth

It’s something at all, nothing at most. If time would

submit to my will, I’d go back, and backspace each

one of my typed words, for you would be no letters,

and left of me would be my future, intact. But we

miscalculated the forces of you. And left to pay,

the price of unrequited, your beauty came at too 

high a sacrifice. The ink, like the oil, the natural 

resource of my soul is running out and sooner than 

expected I’ll go dry. The machine of my love for 

you will cease to function and this will go nowhere 

at all.

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