A Letter To Someone Who Hangs Letters on her Wall
how long has it been since you watched the sun rise
beyond the cracks in your tilted upward window blinds
whos collected dust
gusts when you open them
during a rainstorm?
do you remember how it feels to feel soft yellow breeses
enveloupe and brush around you
near a glistening greylake
and the sound of his orange, dense fur
flowing and flailing amongst them?
the tear drop twinkle sound
like a thousand sewing needles hitting glass
of a gentle mountain rain storm
do you remember falling asleep beside a high way
on 12 foot tall, stacked boulders
curling up in the curves that fit you perfectly
like you were built to be there
do you remember the dreamlike thought
that you could'nt tell the tears from the rain
or climbing a hill at 3 AM
to fill the holes inside you
with a pack of coyotes' sincrinized harmony
do you remember being barefoot and shirtless
whith him as the sun approached the glossy lake
and floating as the sky crecendoed from
a navy, to a pale pink
to a black blanket filled with holes
and kicking the water and mud and draping
webs of sea weed across his face
forgetting how much time went by
losing track of time
saw explosions on the back of your eyelids
do you remember?
how have you found a way to hurt yourself
with the things that made you happy?
but you'll leave those letters on your walls
and keep the voicemails from your old friends' missed calles
cling onto the pictures that they've by now burnt
and love are the things that are making you hurt.
you'll paint your room blue
you'll believe that they ever needed you
you'll give them fare wells
but you'll never say goodbye
be happy that they moved past you
and youll begin to move past them too
leave this old town and love
and you'll be okay
things are balanced, things change