This is not an angsty teenage poem
of love lost in that moment when you realized you wern't the exception
This isn't the story of love found over a cup of coffee
This is the poem for those who cannot speak
afraid of the havoc their words will wreak
the voices that tell stories worth sharing
wanting to be set free
to see light
to scream
Those who sit in fear
of not being believed
and for those who's name they'll never speak
The star athlete
the man down the street
the man in the corner of the bar
their best friends brother,  in his car.
this is a poem for those who shed tears and wish they were layers of skin
this is the poem for words unspoken
for those who wish that all they lost was love
for those who's tongue's gone numb
for those who wish this was an angsty teenage poem.

drinking my moth away
laid out in the potion
a whum, wing and a daze
a sway
a motion with the undergraze
i brighten a pipe full
i become in spirit with its corded sage
and a flutter
as i fright the flame
free from the match-(dead)
a muffled bray
a pleasant wern
i climb a breath
and shudder into bluffle