I write for the lost

For the broken

For the 3 am cigarette smokers and Netflix Addicts

I write for those who tell themselves they can't

For those who convince themselves they are only worth their faults and cracks

I write to stitch up earthquake paper cuts

To soothe tremors and calm ferality

I write so I remember where I came from

To remember where I am going

And how I am going to get there

I write for the girl blooming in reverse

Knees and feet folding back into chair

Arms paper doll folded 

I write for the girls with smeared mascara

For the boys hiding mascara in their friends bags at school

For the couple that gets made fun of for how they hold hands

For the couples not afraid to hold hands

I write for attempted drowners

Flailing in roaring decibels 

Trying to ignore everyone else in the hallway

I write for single mothers and anxiety churned college students

Foreheads creasing prematurely over debt

I write for everyone who won't use their voice out of fear

For the clipped wings and forgotten voices

I write for the forgotten dead

Those whose headstone mysteries remain unsolved

I write for the calloused hand and bloody knuckle

For crow's feet wrinkles and laugh lines

I write so you can remember how the clouds look at sunset

How watermelon tastes on a 100 degree day

And how saliva floods your mouth in anticipation of hunger

I write for that forgotten balloon

Left floating in thin air

I write

So you will remember who I am

Long after

This poem is nothing but ink stained dust


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