For Christmas
I want a bible with all blank pages
I want a butterfly butter-knife
For surprise attack sandwiches
I want a time machine
So I can go back to when I was a ******
To my first cigarette
And my first lover
And my first broken heart
To where my eyes didn’t have the green tint of jade
Lightening up this solid brown
My favorite color
I want a new harmonica inhale
And exhale
I want to breathe heavy into your wind instrument
CPR your song back to life
I want to slow dance on dying yuletide embers
And regift your laughter til I am not funny anymore
Don’t be mad that I recycled the stockings
You made me remove so slowly last night
They are stretched out now
And filled with crumpled photographs
And candy
And sticky notes full of bad one-liners
Like
“I thought I loved you until I loved you
And now I’m not sure of anything”
Forgive me
It was all I could afford
I want
More than just blankets to keep me warm at night
I want you to keep me warm at night
I want a type-writer big enough to run myself through
So I can rewrite the rough drafts my parents never finished
I want to bring the stars back west
So I can wish some more
I wish I knew how to be quiet
When beauty demanded silence
So her feet could echo proper
Drawing eyes to follow her sound
I want the trillions of miles my mind has traveled
To finally stop somewhere important
Like right here
Near the end of this poem
Where I tell you
I want so much
And need so little
Just the promise of tomorrow I guess
Until there are no more tomorrows
Then just a fair warning
Long enough to make you laugh maybe
That’s it
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 7:14 AM UTC
For Christmas
I want a bible with all blank pages
I want a butterfly butter-knife
For surprise attack sandwiches
I want a time machine
So I can go back to when I was a ******
To my first cigarette
And my first lover
And my first broken heart
To where my eyes didn’t have the green tint of jade
Lightening up this solid brown
My favorite color
I want a new harmonica inhale
And exhale
I want to breathe heavy into your wind instrument
CPR your song back to life
I want to slow dance on dying yuletide embers
And regift your laughter til I am not funny anymore
Don’t be mad that I recycled the stockings
You made me remove so slowly last night
They are stretched out now
And filled with crumpled photographs
And candy
And sticky notes full of bad one-liners
Like
“I thought I loved you until I loved you
And now I’m not sure of anything”
Forgive me
It was all I could afford
I want
More than just blankets to keep me warm at night
I want you to keep me warm at night
I want a type-writer big enough to run myself through
So I can rewrite the rough drafts my parents never finished
I want to bring the stars back west
So I can wish some more
I wish I knew how to be quiet
When beauty demanded silence
So her feet could echo proper
Drawing eyes to follow her sound
I want the trillions of miles my mind has traveled
To finally stop somewhere important
Like right here
Near the end of this poem
Where I tell you
I want so much
And need so little
Just the promise of tomorrow I guess
Until there are no more tomorrows
Then just a fair warning
Long enough to make you laugh maybe
That’s it
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