Blotted paper, puzzled mind
no ink decanted at all
words stop right at the tip of my tounge

Pen scratched, blank papers scrapped
No stories written at all
as I see my chest has an open wound

This poem I wrote to reach you
an extended arm
so I could get closer to you

But it just couldn't get into you
my arms stopped at the air
pulled at it's max
still I see gap between my arms and your shoulder

And then you smiled at me
suddenly my wound healed
warmth thronged my chest
it's unfair
how distance between me and you
is different from you and me
~n0e~