You've got mail

Is it weird that I want to hear that again

Not
you have a notification

but mail

Waking up and running to the mailbox
heart pounding with excitement and fear

is your letter here yet


That one thought
everyday
carrying my little legs
racing
in the hopes that I would see your handwriting

and when that letter finally came

like a squirrel with a prized nut
I race away to the safety of my bed with
a flashlight
some poptarts

and pages of your letter

So happy



that I have a friend like you.

try and speak your love
in the common tongue
pull and shatter above
rain down songs unsung

Nearer to the edge
                             I see.
Crawling through
          eternity.
Searching for the master key.
This is our reality.

Communication has de-
                                         volved.
None of our real problems solved.
  We have become      uninvolved
while the whole world revolves.

Spinning further from cont
                                          ro
                                            l.
Turn 'round and view it as a whole.
  Mother Nature's gifts we        stole.
This is how our story goes.

Once black and white.
Once dark and light.
To complicate.
Bring on our fate.

Our halos tilt.
Intentions wilt.
Ambitions great.
Never too late.

Turn 'round to see the sum of things.
Counting on the dead tree's rings.
Refering to ourselves as kings.
Soaring on the deathbird's wing.

I don’t mean to be rude, it just comes out that way. I’m just tryin’ too hard. The moon looks full sometimes, and when I look out the window, I can’t quite see it.
I can’t quite see it.

It’s like that sometimes. There’s something beautiful. I want to reach it with words. I want the permission to hold it. But I can’t quite say it. I open my mouth, and I can’t quite say it. I’m sorry. I wish it were different.

Maybe because of my big heart
which is nevertheless afraid
of everything that could go wrong

and often does not offer room
for what I need, not make space
for what I wish for

Or to bridge the distance
from my high legs and long neck
to you, and not to look down on you

with armed love
to get an unmet need
half-heartedly soothed

Maybe I just imagine
what you do and say to me
maybe we want the same things

maybe, under the surface, you too
are a giraffe, maybe we can
just be giraffes

As a writer
You are assumed to be
Good with words
Yet I spend a vast portion of time
Saying exactly the wrong thing
Or biting my tongue altogether
I hope to tell you one day
What you mean to me
Instead of just writing it out
In the pages in my mind

Once upon a wonder
You must’ve known me.
Unfamiliar familiarity,
Straight through me you see.
To you transparent,
My mind a sieve.
Surprisingly apparent
Reluctant for you to leave.

Poetry is the shortest way of conveying something really big -