my thoughts are as ***** as my bedroom floor
and for a second i think about daring to touch
that bottle of apple flavored whiskey hidden in plain sights

but the serenity is prayer is etched into my mind
and i can't shake the image of your car rolled over
three times with you hanging out the side door

i've had to find different ways to cope with my pain
and writing poetry is one of them
when i write i see colors and hear symphonies
when i write words tumble out through my hands

and my hands have their own plan in place
so i am but a vessel for all of the things i cannot say
and my words, i hope that they echo and clang
much like church bells

if hopes and dreams come true were a common thing
then we'd all be fools in love with ourselves and each other
i wish on eyelashes and dandelions and birthday candles

though i wish on the stars most of all because i think
that they're the closest i'll ever come to my hopes and dreams
the stars are devastating in their beauty
and triumphant in their grace
that's what i want my hopes and dreams to be
and when i look at the stars i can see them clearly

c a n
      y o u
             ?