a shirt
a dark white shirt
with a breast pocket
and a pen
not just any pen
a fountain pen
given as a gift
on my 1st death anniversary
it was black
shiny like ceramic
and the tip
the tip was silver
the tip of the cap
and the tip
at the bottom
it caught light beautifully
and threw out words
its fuel
was ink
regardless of the colour
on ink it fed
and satisfied my hunger
by the words it threw out
my breast pocket
and the pen
its best friend
always together
did fantasy trips together
chased dreams
lost causes
sulked and moaned
and roared
together
one day
one dull
bright
saturday afternoon
both of them
high on life
decided to give it up
decided to give it all up
are you done
the pocket
asked the pen
i think so
replied the pen
you
asked the pen
me too
said the pocket
but can we please
do it together
hand in hand
wouldn't imagine
it any other way
one of them asked
both replied
so then
the pen
nestled in the pocket
and bled
silently bled dry
the pocket
which was the colour
of a dark white
was the colour
of the pen's insides
absorbing all the pen
had to give
giving itself up
as it did
and then it was all quiet
still
serene
and i saw them
from a distance
on a bright dull
saturday afternoon
a sad smile
the within me
and me
without
played out
by a pen and a pocket
when would it be my turn
i thought
within replied
with a hand on my heart
in a while
my friend
in a short while
