To put it bluntly,
your poems smell like rose colored sheets
patterned with nightmares and sweet dreams and midnight ***
To put it bluntly,
your poems are the empty beer bottles on the sidewalk
and the broken glass splashing light like a disco ball
There's a collection of shells sitting on the floor of my bathroom
and your poems are the sand left inside each one
Your poems are the goosebumps that raise on
pale flesh in the dim movie theater light
Your poems are the only things I know about you
and I'm not sure if they are enough to make me love you
But they are enough to make me
lay awake last night and wonder
who you are under your rain cloud of words
that filled up my bed room and drowned me
Your poems wrapped my legs up like seaweed
Your poems tried to swallow me whole like the tide on a full moon
Your poems won't spit me out on shore
and I am bobbing in a storm in the middle of sea
coughing up the lines that made my breath catch up to my brain
To put it bluntly,
your poems might just be killing me,
and I am not complaining.