I tried fixing your heart
and you let me.
Out of kindness, I suppose.
Who knows?
But upon careful examination,
My unfavorable conclusion
Is that your heart’s not broken.
It just doesn’t beat for me.
I tried fixing your heart
and you let me.
Out of kindness, I suppose.
Who knows?
But upon careful examination,
My unfavorable conclusion
Is that your heart’s not broken.
It just doesn’t beat for me.
You’re the almost to my maybe
The missed boat to my open sea
The one risk I haven’t had the chance to take
The best decision I have yet to make.
Timing can ruin even the best songs
One misstep can lead to all sorts of wrongs
But what’s a song if it’s not sung?
And what is us if we haven’t even begun?
Your face is a poem.
With eyes that dance to a meter,
and lips that speak in rhyme.
I sometimes understand you.
But mostly, I find you open to interpretation.
That is your secret,
and I am endlessly fascinated.
I know we’re in the middle of a world’s that’s gone and flipped itself over,
and I can’t make heads or tails of things beyond me.
So I’m sticking to this simple dream–
I just want someone to kiss hello,
and to blow kisses goodbye.
We are a tumble of breaths,
Each not knowing where one starts and one ends.
with your every inhale, my ribs are pulled in,
And in my every exhale it is your breath I smell on me,
We are so close, we share the same air.
I’ve dry-cleaned the gown that I’ll wear in that surprise party you said you’d throw me one day.
And I’ve packed my suitcase just in case we finally make it to that trip you’ve promised.
I’ve brought my boots out if you ever think of going on that hike.
Our list is getting longer, but not my patience.
I’m so ready for you to be ready.
At a certain angle, our love looks smooth and perfect.
But up close, it is lines crashing upon each other,
Edges jutting out,
Sharp and dangerous.
It is not the kind that will survive scrutiny.
Maybe we’ll share coffee again someday
in our favorite cafe.
And maybe we’ll hold hands, we’ll see.
Just the thought of it makes me giddy.
Maybe I’ll stare into your actual eyes
and not the screen.
Someday I’ll wake up
and know you’re not a dream.
It might soon, but maybes lie
But I still hope, don’t ask me why
Or when or how
But when this is through,
I will see you.
On Guns and Hearts
On Owning a gun and giving one’s heart:
It should only be given to a person who can responsibly care for it.
It should only be possessed by a person of sound mind.
It should only be accepted by one who knows he consequences of misuse.
*Somebody reminded my yesterday that poetry can be used to make a stand and my stand is responsible gun ownership.
I think one important key to determining responsibility is complying with a strict protocol on dispensing gun licenses. You wouldn’t give a license to a person not fit to drive, and so should it be for a person not fit to own a weapon.