The broken window

I remember your small room 
Your old records 
And your books 

The look on your face 
When something inspires you 
to write a book 

Your broken window 
Was your greatest view To admire the fifty shades of blue

I sat beside you to feel like you 
I wanted to know what’s so fancy about that view
I wore your pyjams, it was oversized 

But it felt like home 
I dug into your pockets 
Hoping to find more stories about you 

I’m your wife, but I feel like I’m a stranger to you 
What shall I do to make you love me 
Like you adore your books 

So I loved books and began to write like you 
To please my desire when I need you 
Words become my romeo

My hidden lover 
memories clutch my conscious 
and the quill

no more bleeds 
the words that weaved us
as you're far away 

under the blue blanket
watching me
under the twinkling bulbs 
craving for you