The meter lost its rhythm.
The motions lost their notes.
The boy who took my voice away,
All he left was what he wrote.

Looping pen on paper
Was how he let me in.
On my way out of his heart,
Words were where I knew to begin.

I put them up on screens,
I sent them down the line.
When they glowed, I dreamed;
Failed, I hardly called them mine.

Now the words I could not say to him
(For his ears were a thousand miles away)
Shape and spark
Within my dim heart,
Are born unto you (or whomever they choose) today.