Amy Weller: Favorites

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

Morgan

-

I thought a tattoo gun
and different shades of grey
would make me feel like a painting
I thought a cigarette between my finger tips
would make me feel like a poem
I thought if I sat in enough coffee shops
and read enough news articles
I'd be the kind of person
other people wanted to fall in love with
I thought if I lost
ten pounds and took Polaroids
of myself sipping lemonade
in a bathing suit,
you'd wish you hadn't
cracked me open
and picked me apart
every night for three years
of our lives
but the ink made me feel exposed
and the cigarettes made me feel like
I was standing at a truck stop
and the coffee shops were lonely
and the news articles were boring
and I lost more than weight that summer
and I took more than Polaroids
and I drank more than lemonade
and I cracked myself open
and I picked myself apart
and I forgot what I was doing
in the first place
but I couldn't make it stop

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

End of Days

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

Peter Cullen

End of Days

There's sometimes energy in words
they seem to jump up off the page.
Then there's other words that hide there
like they've seen the End of Days.
Wrapped in a cloak of silence
taught never to be spoken,
until we've seen the fall of men
and all the clocks are broken.

When the innocence returns
and sits side by side in all our lives.
And all that's left is wanting souls
just needing love to stay alive.
When ego dies, in all its forms
and returns to the dust,
the words that chose to hide away
shall return to our trust.

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

White Christmas Lights

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

Morgan

White Christmas Lights

Your words hung like
White Christmas lights
All along the walls of my bedroom
They got tangled in the sun
And faded away
On summer days
But they kept me up
Every night
In the winter

You wanted to hold the world in your hands
But the edges were sharp
And by the time we graduated high school
You were sick of bleeding

You wanted to hold my waist in your hands
But your hands were opened wounds
And I slipped right through them

You hung yourself
Like the white Christmas lights
That wrapped around your mother's
Front porch in December

You wanted to hold the world in your hands
But your hands were opened wounds
And it slipped right through them

I carry your life on my back
And the weight is breaking my spirit

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

Dying

Mar 2014 Amy Weller

Luisa

Dying

I see a world slowly dying -
Voices dying to be heard,
Stories dying to be told..

People dying to live.

& I want to save them all

— The End —