10 at night the wind is piercing, relentless
the moon shoots through the window like a bow and arrow and
shimmers off of the oil-on-canvas painting of a willow
hanging by the door
you’re throwing a few t-shirts and your favorite pair of ripped levi’s into the coffee-colored backpack i gave you last summer it was your birthday
god i don’t want you to leave
flip over the record and please stay
until it’s finished
but you can’t
and i know you have so much too much to offer
your unmatched compassion the way your eyes glimmer in an instant when a bird
first takes flight
you have been here through my best and worst have seen me radiate shades of pale blue
and for this i am thankful
though i’m neglected from my thoughts left fidgeting through a barbed wire fence
realizing the shocks are all i’ve felt in weeks months
i must let it be
so i lie back soak in a lukewarm water filled cast iron tub trace the rim of it with a
shriveled finger
and let it be
as i remain static
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 11:12 PM UTC
10 at night the wind is piercing, relentless
the moon shoots through the window like a bow and arrow and
shimmers off of the oil-on-canvas painting of a willow
hanging by the door
you’re throwing a few t-shirts and your favorite pair of ripped levi’s into the coffee-colored backpack i gave you last summer it was your birthday
god i don’t want you to leave
flip over the record and please stay
until it’s finished
but you can’t
and i know you have so much too much to offer
your unmatched compassion the way your eyes glimmer in an instant when a bird
first takes flight
you have been here through my best and worst have seen me radiate shades of pale blue
and for this i am thankful
though i’m neglected from my thoughts left fidgeting through a barbed wire fence
realizing the shocks are all i’ve felt in weeks months
i must let it be
so i lie back soak in a lukewarm water filled cast iron tub trace the rim of it with a
shriveled finger
and let it be
as i remain static
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