You.

I wish I wrote the way I thought.
Obsessively,
Intensely,
With the extreme feeling of hunger and desperation.
I'd write my way into the mountains
peak of starvation.   
I'd write myself into the brim of death, drowning with passion in the sea of soft, simple words.
Letterings coiling out like fireworks into the unfathomable nothing that we call night.
And you.
And I'd write about you more than I would like to admit.