You are the pencil to my pen
You are the lines on my paper
You are the eraser crumbs on my desk
You are the broken lead flying across the room,
The pencil shavings that soon follow
You are the cramp in my hand,
The block in my mind
You are the headache from staring at the white screen too long
You are the curser blinking¾ on, off, on, off, on, off
You are the tap of the backspace bar¾ trying to get the word right
You are the encyclopedia of my words
You are the thesaurus to my dictionary,
The suffix to my prefix
You are the thoughts that conjure my writing
You are my motivation, my raison d’être
You are my memories
You are my Literary Soul Mate