so the wordless poet returned
i always thought she was beautiful
was she beautiful? questioning
all you believe in for that reason
to prove somebody else wrong.

twisted sycamores and the painful
memories you loved to mull over how
they have become worthless to you
how your love powered you and how
it died so similarly; now where have you gone?

you realize along the way that you
are different than you always thought you
deceived yourself, you were ugly, you
were awful and dry of tears and on the
outside a goddamn shell you are nothing you are
everything

tears fall into a paper cup the bottom falls out
you are nothing you are everything
hold on, hold on, hold on hopes
dear life you are beautiful don't go away
the wordless poet is dead.

oh god please come back to me,
whisper your words whisper them
in my ears, world how you whisper those
beautiful things those alliterations those
rhymes; i want them back, i need them

what is a wordless poet; a lover without love
who are you now but a shell, who are you
but the nothingness on your fingertips, the
galaxies you no longer write about, the rough
draft of collapse just as the dust cloud of eternity
in which you are smaller than the smallest atom
yet more beautiful than every single ray of light.

you are beautiful, you are beautiful
you are a shell you are nothing you are
everything please tell me you
love me please tell me with
all your beautiful words
a poet without words
is nothing at all.