I missed you yesterday.
So I started folding paper planes,
But I knew they'd never reach you.
Aerodynamics paper really up.
and doesn't add
I switched to folding boats instead,
And they looked strong and sharp.
But they sank even
faster
than
my
heart.
And, no one ever taught me how to sail.
Then, I tried my hand at paper cranes,
Because, I read somewhere,
"One thousand cranes are good for one true wish."
But I stopped after forty-three,
When I ran out of square paper and band-aids.
So, I folded up some stars instead,
But they weren't any good.
They didn't twinkle and they couldn't
even
fall...
(and i stopped wishing on stars years ago).
I gave up on origami; I was never very good.
Paper only likes me when with pen.
Instead, I'll try to reach you
with the words I love to write --
poetry [and] promises [and] dreams
(and maybe a few apologies for loving you all wrong).
All I really wanted to say was,
"Baby, run away with me."
But I didn't think - the words alone - would move you.