Epiphany

I am the reporter

And you go

Blah, blah, blah

So I write it down in pencil

Because sitting beside you I said,

“My pen is out of ink”

And then you went, not listening

Blah, blah, blah

So I wrote it down in lead, bearing no mind to its impermanence

Yes, lead to white lines, blah, blah, blah

Superficial blah, I can’t hear you blah

And I thought “WHAT majesty your words must be in all your wisdom, I shall write them down”

And you kept on

Assumption, assertion, assumption, assertion

And you kept on

Me, me, me

So I wrote it down

Without speculation

And when I raised my brow from my page,

Well what have you!

Poof! You left, gone before I had even finished

Leaving me with but one fragment

And one run on

And one sentence that no matter which way I turned it,

Did not make a good ellipsis

Frustrated,

I read my words, direct quotations

And only came to find

Nonsense on a rant

Ignorance on display

And with that upon your absence,

Angered and bewildered

I shuffled and stuffed, shuffled and stuffed

My papers away

When suddenly impeded,

A new pen dropped from my raging sentiment and plopped into my lap

This new pen

Filled with promise in that of red ink