Archives

Your archives, nestled in my brain,  
Well kept and cloaked in satin  
Own my next thought,  
Holding my mournful leaves with every note.  
   
Bitterly glazed over,    
These archives of you,  
Piercing holes onto my chest,  
Drawing tears down my cheeks.  
   
With a weight of a feather,  
My words fell weak on the knees,  
Begging for yours to be seen,  
For you to taste my ink.  
   
My hands are getting colder,  
My pen is breathing its last,  
And my archives about you  
Are left unread.