I think I forgot how to speak.

I owe a call to the best friend in my phone,
and an ode to the summer walked on a bone.

An "I'm sorry!" to that boy I somewhat liked,
And a 加油！to that brother who's completely wiped.

The page called my name yesterday,
or was it a week ago? I dunno, Someday.

Standing next to inspiration's dusty tomb
from across the neighborhood of my room

a right on Dirty Laundry and another
on the Unclosed Shutters

oh dear, I forgot how wonderful Window is!
My word, haven't looked through her in ages!

How many similes, metaphors, and lives now
do I owe to her honor, anyhow?

And Sweater, old friend!
Did I truly fling you to this bend?

Ah well, another poem for you
And you, and you, and why not you too?

Just round the bed,
words scrambling in my head

And by the time I cross the aisle,
a few steps, but feels like miles

To the page, I must apologize
for by now the blaring voices have simply

died.