I long to feel
The vivid spring season
the messy wreak of the breakup
the job dreamed of
the first kiss
the deathbed words

my life is my elbow,
its constantly getting torn to
shreds, then
struck back together w/nails
much larger then 16 penny
    cuz im the son of a once-learnt
life carpenter
who knows his craft so well that he forgot.
that you measure twice and cut once.
cuz you cant re-add scrap material.
    his poor wife who puts wine on a table,
all 4 legs a different length, stained a
different color, the table all
wobbleyed

    its our responsibility
    its our irresponsible problem
    its our truth
    we are the carpenters sons

its so hard to love,
someone,
who doesn't love you back
oh the woes,
someone,
must know but cant
possible
show.

the sweetest of sweats of sorrows from
one to the other
you had to dig in deep to possess.
, that's p̶a̶r̶t̶l̶y̶ really why ya read things,
deeply incrypted in words describing things
describing ideas describing feels.
from that dusty old waterfall that you
had to hike 7 hours just to glimpse at,
to the heartache & break you worked
so desperately much to prevent,
the world offers itself to your imagination
not to ya
ya gotta venter away,
you gotta go and track for
days neverending,
chase down in a final bone breaking
push
wrestle that boar of the feels
.or.
end up in that care-not blues

When i sit,
i have an urge to run.
When im talking,
I'm not listening, im running.
i seem to find myself,
wondering how im here again.
How can my friends tell
i am not listening
i am running

i've been dreaming at nights.
Bout tree's.
How would it be to be stuck,
in one place.
Resting? Freeing? Connecting?
So confident that your where
you need to be.

One day I'll find out
what its like,
but, now n' days
im busy
running