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my throat is a forest fire, a burning map that never leads to 'the depths of virginia' your hands are made of water, icy cold and haunting and I don't know what else to say except "please" I sometimes think that we should have a history book rewritten with our names, because I'll be ********* if we are not rewarded for the way we forget about our past I WONDER IF WHAT WE TALK ABOUT AFTER MIDNIGHT HAS ANY IMPACT ON THE WAY YOUR HEART BEATS AND IF IT DOES IS IT WATERED DOWN BECAUSE OF BEFORE AND I WANT TO KNOW IF MY WORDS HAVE THE SAME EFFECT ON YOU AS YOURS ON ME AND I WANT TO SWIM in the James River and forget how to sway my limbs around to float this is not a love poem this is not an "I miss you, come back" poem this is a confession this is a love letter written on the palms of my hands because I know you'll never get over how badly they shake maybe I'm confused or lovesick or homesick for a home that can only be found inside of warm chests but I needed to write this for someone, for myself maybe my questions don't need answers, maybe they just need to be heard.
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
THIS WAS TITLED WITH YOUR NAME
my throat is a forest fire, a burning map that never leads to 'the depths of virginia' your hands are made of water, icy cold and haunting and I don't know what else to say except "please" I sometimes think that we should have a history book rewritten with our names, because I'll be ********* if we are not rewarded for the way we forget about our past I WONDER IF WHAT WE TALK ABOUT AFTER MIDNIGHT HAS ANY IMPACT ON THE WAY YOUR HEART BEATS AND IF IT DOES IS IT WATERED DOWN BECAUSE OF BEFORE AND I WANT TO KNOW IF MY WORDS HAVE THE SAME EFFECT ON YOU AS YOURS ON ME AND I WANT TO SWIM in the James River and forget how to sway my limbs around to float this is not a love poem this is not an "I miss you, come back" poem this is a confession this is a love letter written on the palms of my hands because I know you'll never get over how badly they shake maybe I'm confused or lovesick or homesick for a home that can only be found inside of warm chests but I needed to write this for someone, for myself maybe my questions don't need answers, maybe they just need to be heard.
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blankpoems
Canadian
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 8:29 PM UTC
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