To Kim

To Kim

My pen has always been heavier than this.
As though the entirety of my pain
Was dense black ink pressing into a page
Leaving only emptiness within me.

My hand is unaccustomed to such lightness.
As though I cannot write without this weight
Pushing my stark words into the paper
Marring its whiteness with angry black scars.

Yet I would write now in Crayola colors.
As though simple vibrancy might express
The bright buoyancy I find inside me
Breathing you in through the pores of my skin.

I would write to tell you that I love you,
Even though my hand is far too awkward,
And my pen far too light and clumsy.

Though I write this poem with the same black ink,
You are sunshine and watercolors to me.