The Writer Without Words

There’s something about him that makes me smile.

Maybe it’s the jokes he makes.

Or the fact that he likes my name..

But why can’t a writer go more in depth?

Maybe it’s because he likes the things about me that I hate.

Or maybe because he wouldn’t mind staying up late.

Just to talk to me at night after long days..

Maybe it’s cause we both like to read.

Or maybe the fact that I used to love his favorite color. 

It’s the first time in a while that I’ve worn the color purple..

Maybe it’s the fact he likes my writing.

Or maybe the fact that he’s thinking about trying it too.

But someday the writer in me will fade.

And I have my doubts but..

Nobody is willing to love a writer without their words.