you teach me
with each
misunderstanding
how to breathe
how to listen
how to be
you tell me
with each
hellish word
how to let go
how to conform
how to be
you reach me
with each
conversation
how to wait
how to remember
how to be
tamped down
held down
calmed down
all in the same day
but never in
the same way
leaving me
to reconstruct myself
forever learning
how to be
(fade)
the thing to know
is that we don't know
when our last day is
sometimes we're not meant
to prepare for the unknown
with a script in hand
and a great last sentence
sometimes instead of
growing dark
slowly
we become engulfed
all of a sudden
we're turned on our back
colors turn to grey
we can't think of
what to say
at that point
we can't think of
what to do
all we can do
is try
try to breathe in the life
that's trying so hard
to escape from us
willing ourselves awake
for one more second
of breath
for her
for him
for ourselves
for whatever it was
that kept our heart beating
for all those countless years
when all we had the luxury
to do
was dream
(stay)
i tipped my hat
when you told me to
that wasn't enough
i stop straightening
your pillows
when you asked me to
that wasn't enough
i stopped belching
in your ear
stopped calling you "dear"
stopped smearing
my lips
along your neck
that wasn't enough
i still see the dark cloud
hanging over your head
the blankets are drawn
on your side of the bed
won't you tell me please
what is it that i said
and how can i be more?
storms come quickly
to those with unmade beds
(dread)
some day
when the world stops
making sense
and the tensions
are gone
i'll erase
whatever i think
will happen
whatever i want
to happen
whatever i wish
to happen
and just let
the words flow
from the others
no longer will
i bother
in this way
i will help all
please some
and forget
the mess that's
within me
for at least
a little while
(miles)
you rarely
let me finish sentences
when you're full
of coffee
you often
keep me from sleeping
when you're full
of hope
but when the darkness
creeps in
the silence
is deafening
and i long for the times
you babble on
about everything
and nothing at all
(open)
sometimes the things
that weigh heaviest on
your shoulders
are the things
that happened long ago
the bright spark
that was your mother
as she sketched the world
waiting for your arrival
the dark mass
that grew impatient
and drew attention from
the blessing
spurned by creativity
the short life that
gave you breath
creating all the way
to the end
what could you do
that was so magnificent
what could you say
that was so memorable
what could you be
except a vapor of what was
before you were even born
you were promised
to greatness
how could you be
anything more
than what you were
a short ember that
snuffed out in the darkness
way before your time
(hope)
when you learn
not to ask
what you shouldn't
have known
when you learn
not to speak
out of turn
when you learn
not to be
the weird one
in the sane
that's when
you can begin
to understand
that's when
you can learn
how to be
(see)
