To put you on paper is to make you real,
Bring you to life for eternity in the blackest form.
Giving you the power, the future.
And leaving me empty, with nothing left to print.
I cannot commit you to the lasting word,
For words are not enough to describe your impression,
I cannot do what you ask.
I am not willing to give that part of myself away.
I will instead,
Leave just the hint of your presence,
That you may thrive just enough,
To follow me into tomorrow.
In hopes that I will someday,
Commit to you the memoir you deserve.