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

 

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