#mailboxes
You strengthen me
Stretch me tall in fond pursuit
And call my waking trees to move with subtle hints
Familiar as the folding sound
Between quiet rustling parchment leaves
Becoming new our newest sounds as an inkwell drawn
Like a sunlit jewel your dulcet glow
Is stumbling down a penciled path of painted memory
Colored by every season anew with the hues of you
Don’t cry when I am no more seen, my felicity
It was always and with you in mind
That you made me want to try
Sep 20, 2019
Sep 20, 2019 at 11:41 AM UTC
A “mailbox” is
a funny thing.
It used to be a means
of keeping in touch
with the ones that we loved—
a tool for connections
and correspondences.
What do we even have
mailboxes for now?
Stores send out coupons
for us to accumulate
goods now.
Credit card companies
send out reminders
to pay off our debts now.
Everyone’s circulating love,
but of status and wealth now.
We’ve become so consumed
with our phones, with fashion
and greed...
how?
A. I. Myles 19 June, 2o19
@athenaeumthoughts
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 5:04 PM UTC
I've got this
religion building up inside
I need to let go of the outside
though I know not which
voice is mine to find
I've gotta drive home
without a vehicle to ride
I've got to drive home
Where was it you sang?
I felt your low resonance
I felt you in the blood pumped
through my lungs
at one time
your breathiness
absorbed in my dreams
watching me sleep
Today, I'm gone
Today I am completely ******* gone--
I got this
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 5:34 PM UTC