“Keep writing poems, friend.”
I tell the woman facing me.
“You still have more to say…
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“Keep writing poems, friend.”
I tell the woman facing me.
“You still have more to say…
Wishing to transform
as I turn away once more
I become nothing
Now the ocean on my back feels calm to the touch
Smoother sailing for them all
But everything still flows down here
Where I shiver beneath them….
….
I remember
It’s not a shiny little pebble
It’s a dull rock
Hard and brutal
….
Spring moon hidden, dark:
Under tumultuous black waves
Thrown pebbles vanish
I can say it, and that seems to get the message across. But all the rest of my love just falls flat.
How is it
that no matter how many curtains I draw
over every window I pass,
the dark can always find me?
…
This place isn’t mine
To carve my odd shape into
…
“It’s too much. Again. Again, you go too far!”
I hear it loud and clear.
“You are too much!”
I am too much,
But — too much for what? Too much for who?
…
It was you I was thinking of the other day
when I suddenly thought to myself:
“They make me feel so…. Normal.”
…