when i'd be asked in the past
'do you collect anything?'
as a child i'd feel an obligation
my friends collected buttons,
christmas ******* rings,
compiled shells,
or gas station keyrings
so i collected can tops
and squishy toys from beach side shops
pointy pointless scraps of metal
that now sit in a dusty jar
and stuffed lizards and seahorses
in a box under an old bed
and when they said
they didn't get it
i knew i didn't either
but i'd say the metal
is sentimental
it really is a keeper
honest
and now i'm older
i'm no objector
to being a collector
promise
because in a box
inside my heart
beyond the dust,
i'm honest,
i keep a stash
tied in a sash
of all the things
i've sprinkled with stardust
of all the memories
of days i loved
and too ones fogged with miseries
of scars formed from thunderstorms
for thorns are as much of a blessing
as the caressing from surrounding roses
of people who loved me
and people i despised
of eyes i glanced at once and
should i see again
would go unrecognised
for when i'm collecting moments
i am collecting lives
and there is no better way
to be alive
than revising every moment
as if it were chosen
by you
from that gas station
instead of just through obligation
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
when i'd be asked in the past
'do you collect anything?'
as a child i'd feel an obligation
my friends collected buttons,
christmas ******* rings,
compiled shells,
or gas station keyrings
so i collected can tops
and squishy toys from beach side shops
pointy pointless scraps of metal
that now sit in a dusty jar
and stuffed lizards and seahorses
in a box under an old bed
and when they said
they didn't get it
i knew i didn't either
but i'd say the metal
is sentimental
it really is a keeper
honest
and now i'm older
i'm no objector
to being a collector
promise
because in a box
inside my heart
beyond the dust,
i'm honest,
i keep a stash
tied in a sash
of all the things
i've sprinkled with stardust
of all the memories
of days i loved
and too ones fogged with miseries
of scars formed from thunderstorms
for thorns are as much of a blessing
as the caressing from surrounding roses
of people who loved me
and people i despised
of eyes i glanced at once and
should i see again
would go unrecognised
for when i'm collecting moments
i am collecting lives
and there is no better way
to be alive
than revising every moment
as if it were chosen
by you
from that gas station
instead of just through obligation
