The Writer

To write
I bleed,
a story must be told.
My truth escapes,
the bitter sweet taste
consumes each line.
The writer within
lives upon these pages.
I listen,
as you whisper my name
the very breath of you
fills my naked soul,
stirring something in my core.
Alive I am once more.
I listen in silence
to the secrets within.
To write
I bleed,
and yet another story begins.